Chemistry: There's Nothing To It
by AGleekyPackersFan
Summary: They never met. Instead, Kurt Hummel is a first grade teacher who just got engaged to his boyfriend of two years while Blaine Anderson is a single father working at a diner to help pay the rent. What happens when their paths cross at a school conference for Blaine's daughter, who just so happens to be one of Kurt's pupils? Klaine!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello lovely people :) I'm Roadrunner (honestly I've been gone so long that I'm sure no one knows who the hell I am) and I present you my new story! I'm excited because I've wanted to write this for so long and I'm so grateful that I have the opportunity before life gets too hectic again to the point where I can't get on the computer to write a single sentence.**

**I hope you all enjoy, and I apologize for errors.**

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Blaine couldn't stop looking up at the clock hanging above the swinging door that lead to the kitchen. Of course Charlie, his manager, wouldn't let him leave his shift until five o'clock sharp. Every time Charlie caught him staring at the clock, he would begin to yell at him to "get the hell back to work, Anderson!" quite loudly for nearly the whole diner to hear.

He bit his lower lip as he continued to stack the dirty dishes in his arms that he just served to: a sweet elderly couple who left him a rather hefty tip that seemed to lift Blaine's moods. That was, until he tripped over the table's leg and dropped the two plates, a spoon, some forks, and bowl that were gathered up in his arms.

"Blaine, sweetie, are you okay?" A young woman in her early twenties approached him, bending down to help gather the pieces.

"I'm fine," Blaine mumbled, already on the floor scooping up the broken pieces. "No, Stacy, I got it."

"Too bad," she flipped her purple-streaked blond hair back as she proceeded to gather more shattered pieces with utmost care. "I'm gonna clean this up while you serve booth twenty-one in the back. They have two toddlers who won't shut up and I have a blistering headache."

Blaine nodded, standing up almost unsurely. "Thanks."

He began to make his way over, and his stomach churned at the sight of the two toddlers, sitting side by side, squealing and gurgling, while the parents attempt and fail to calm them down. Yet another glance at the clock told him that if he served this table, he would be able to leave and head back home.

Sucking in a deep breath, he surged forward, the sounds of the toddlers' obscene noises increasing with each step he took.

It wasn't like he disliked kids. Most of the time, it was the parents who couldn't control the kids. One of his biggest pet peeves is bad parenting. And as one of them, he constantly felt like he wasn't making the world's greatest choices for both himself and his own kid.

Unsurprisingly, the parents had given up to the point where they didn't even acknowledge their own kid. The toddlers were so unruly and the parents didn't care about how much of a scene they were causing and how much trouble they were giving Blaine. Once again, bad parenting seemed to really hit on with this generation.

When he finished with that table, there was more food splatters on the table and on the booth cushions than the amount of crumbled up napkins used to clean up the mess.

Once again, there was a tap on his shoulder as he was scrubbing hard on the table surface, and a hand reached out to snatch the wet rag away from his hands.

"Stacy, what is-?"

"It's five."

And Blaine all but bolted out of the Cardinal Diner, barely even hearing Stacy's laughter behind him and not even bothering to hang up his apron and instead keeping it along with him.

He pushed through the doors and set off on a quick jog, nearly bumping into other people walking around the sidewalks of downtown Columbus. He was so close to his apartment, it was just rounding the corner of the street of the Cardinal Diner and continuing down to the end of the road, at Catania Apartments.

Blaine was there in no time at all, pushing through the doors and said a quick hello to Natasha, the old, wrinkly receptionist with big, wide rimmed glasses that always glared at him with a scowl whenever he entered and left the building.

At two steps at a time, he hiked up the crummy metal stairs that clanged loudly with each step he took. Blaine never trusted the elevator here at Catania; it creaked and was always in repair. Not only that, but his apartment was only on the third floor. There really wasn't a need to take the elevator to go up or down only two floors.

His feet thumped when he reached the top step and he opened the door leading to a quiet and slightly chilly hallway filled with doors leading to other residents' homes.

Blaine's apartment was room number 305, three doors down of the stairs. Already he could hear the familiar music to the famous Nintendo game coming from his own home, and he couldn't help but smile as he approached the door. Just as he took out his key from his front pocket, he heard squeals of laughter and a groan, followed by cheering. He couldn't have slammed the key into the keyhole and unlock the door faster.

The door was pushed open and he walked inside, closing the door right behind him. Blaine's smile grew when he saw his daughter cheering and jumping up and down on the sofa while Sam was sitting with hunched shoulders on the arm chair, hitting his forehead with the Wii Wheel controller.

"I'm guessing you lost the race?" Blaine said, approaching his best friend from behind.

Immediately the young girl squealed and attempted to launch herself into Blaine's arms. "Daddy, I missed you," the girl said, clutching tightly on Blaine's legs instead. She was only so small for a first grader.

Blaine hoisted his daughter so she was being supported on Blaine's hip. "I missed you too, Kelly. How was school?"

"It was awesome," Kelly replied, her green eyes twinkling. "Mr. Hummel taught me how to take away numbers from each other and we learned about frogs!"

"Frogs are totally awesome," Blaine said, still paying attention to his excited daughter.

"Yeah, an' during sing-a-long Mr. Hummel played the piano," the young girl sighed and leaned her head on Blaine's shoulder. "Mr. Hummel sings like an angel."

Blaine couldn't help but chuckle at his daughter's admiration for her new teacher of the school year. "So you really like Mr. Hummel, huh?" he asked, adjusting Kelly on his other hip.

"You bet she does," Sam cut in. "She wouldn't shut up about him ever since she came home."

"At first he was kinda weird with such a high voice and really pricey looking clothes," Kelly said, "but he is so amazing and…" she shrugged.

"He's just that amazing?" Blaine said.

"He is."

"That's great to hear, pumpkin," he then set his daughter back onto the couch. "Would you mind heading to your room and cleaning up? I can see it from here and it looks like a tornado went right through it."

Kelly sighed exasperated and hopped off the couch and waddled off to her bedroom to do what she was told.

Once Kelly was out of ear shot, Blaine collapsed on the couch face first

"How was your day?" Sam asked, picking back up the gaming controller.

"Awful." His response was muffled by the pillow his face was resting on.

"That's better than yesterday." Sam selected the weird looking purple dinosaur and a cool bike to go along with the character.

"What did I say yesterday?" Blaine asked.

"You said, and I quote, 'shitty'."

"I only said 'awful' so that way you wouldn't be so sympathetic to me. For god's sake, yesterday you had Quinn deliver me one of her homemade cakes."

"She felt bad for you, bro! Oh, and she wants a turn babysitting Kelly Cake."

"I bet she does. You always hog Kelly, especially on weekdays."

Sam nodded and bit his lip as he avoided a vicious racer nearly jostling him off -the course. "I do and I have no regrets and- oh, shit why did Yoshi had to do that?"

Blaine just sighed and buried his head deeper into the pillow. It was silent between the two of them, and the weariness had finally caught up to Blaine and he suddenly woke up with a start when he felt someone poking his stomach repeatedly.

Groggily, his eyes adjusted to see his daughter already in her Spiderman pajamas, a gift from Sam, and her hair was dripping wet. She was still poking Blaine while the other hand was at her mouth.

"Kelly, sweetie, please stop sucking your thumb." Blaine mumbled, tossing himself over so he was lying on his back.

Kelly yanked her thumb right out of her mouth with a pop. "Sorry daddy. And dinner's ready. Sam made noodles! With meatballs! And the noodles are bowties."

"Mm, bowtie spaghetti, huh," Blaine said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"Yeah, what you said. C'mon daddy," Kelly began to tug Blaine's arm rather viciously for a first grader, "you're dinner's gonna get cold!"

"Yeah, and I hate for a good meal to go to waste," Sam interjected from the kitchen. "Get your as- I mean butt, in here mister!"

Blaine groaned as his daughter continued to tug relentlessly until finally Blaine launched at Kelly unexpectedly and swooped her up so she was being carried on his shoulder.

"Daddy, put me down," Kelly shouted, followed by giggles as she began to pound her fists onto Blaine's shoulder. "Don't kidnap me; I'm too pretty to be taken by my own daddy!"

Sam burst out laughing as he set another plate out for Blaine. "Are you guys going to stop fooling around and eat my world famous bowtie spaghetti and meatballs? Or am I going to have to eat it all?"

"We're here, Uncle Sam," Kelly said with a grin as Blaine set her down in her chair with a quiet grunt.

"And gosh, Kelly Cake, you're getting really heavy and much taller," Blaine told her once he was seated right across from her. "Sooner or later you'll be the one carrying me around on your shoulder!"

Kelly cocked her head curiously as Sam went up to her plate and scooped bowtie noodles onto her plate. "Blaine, that won't be happening for a long while. And besides, Kelly's not growing, you're shrinking."

"Hey, I am _not_ shrinking," Blaine cried out on top of Kelly's giggles. "Stop with the short people jokes. You're being a bad influence in front of my daughter."

"Yeah, Uncle Sam," Kelly echoed in an accusing tone. "You're being a bad in… uh-"

"Influence?" Sam offered, finishing serving Blaine and currently serving himself.

"-yeah, you're a bad influence on me, Uncle Sam."

Sam laughed and Blaine nudged his shoulder. "She's got a point there. Next thing you know, the two of you will be robbing banks and holding people hostage."

"Like Mr. Potato Head in Toy Story 2?" Kelly asked through a stuffed mouth.

"That's right, sweetie," Blaine said. "And please don't talk with your mouth full of food and don't take too big of a bite," Blaine added, pointing at her with his fork. "And what do we say to Sam for cooking our meal?"

Both adults looked at Kelly expectantly as she finished chewing as quickly as possible. When she swallowed, she bellowed "thank you!" with a proud smile like she won the lottery.

Blaine couldn't help but smile to himself as he took his first bite of his dinner.

xXxXx

After dinner, there was cleanup that required a bigger job of wiping down the floor (Sam, being immature in front of Kelly as ever, had nearly started a food fight when he launched a meatball at Blaine's hair and thankfully for Blaine he missed). While Blaine was doing dishes, Sam was in the bathroom with Kelly drying her still damp hair from her bath and would soon tuck her in and say farewell and leave for the night.

Blaine was nearly done rinsing a pot before he saw Sam gather up his possessions and made his way out with a "see ya later, bro" and a "expect Quinn tomorrow to pick Kelly up from school". And Blaine couldn't have been more happier that Hawkins Elementary, Kelly's school, had pulled some strings due to Kelly's lifestyle and allowed both Sam and Quinn, and _only _Sam and Quinn (and of course himself) to pick her up after school.

When Blaine began to run the dishwasher, he made his way over to Kelly's bedroom to read her a bedtime story and kiss her goodnight before turning off the lights.

What had him standing in the doorway, frozen in place, was Kelly, reading the first book of the famous Harry Potter series. Not only that, but it was Blaine's copy of the book that was kept in his bedroom bookcase, and he could tell by the missing corner that was ripped from years of reading and the worn out spine that was barely holding the pages together.

"Kelly, what are you reading?"

It took his daughter a few moments before lowering the book and looking at Blaine. "I'm reading Harry Potter and the," she turned the front cover so she could see it, "and the Sorcerer's Stone. Uncle Sam helped me read the word right."

"He did a fantastic job, but why are you reading that book? Won't it be a little challenging for you?"

Kelly shrugged. "I dunno. I was thinking you could read it to me at night."

Blaine couldn't help but grin. His daughter was finally following his own childhood and was going to read his favorite book series of all time. It was surely a dream come true.

"Of course, Kelly Cake," he said, walking over and sitting on the bed next to her legs. "May I see the book?" Kelly then handed him the book with the first page bookmarked with a piece of tissue that wasn't used. "How far are you?"

"I only got to there," she pointed at the second page, her finger on top of the first sentence.

Blaine ruffled his daughter's hair, which she squirmed at the action. "That's pretty far, princess. Do you understand what's going on?"

Another shrug. "Kinda."

"Well, here, how about I start over and add voices?" Blaine offered.

"Yeah, do that."

Blaine shifted on the bed, holding the book carefully in his hands and began to read. *"'Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.'"*

Blaine took a quick pause to check on Kelly, who was still raptly into the book and by Blaine's words. Without further ado, Blaine continued.

*"'Mr. Dursley was the director of a film called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck-'"*

"How could he not have a neck?" Kelly asked with wide, innocent eyes.

"Because of how… big he is, it looks like he doesn't have a neck," Blaine explained.

"So he _does_ have a neck."

"Yes."

"Okay. I'm good."

Blaine smiled, and continued. *"'Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors.'"*

"That's very rude, why would she do that?"

"She just… does. That's her personality; she's very nosy on other people."

"Mr. Hummel should read this book to my class for story time."

Blaine hummed in agreement and was just about to start the next sentence, when…

"Oh, and by the way, Mr. Hummel is having a confence with all of the other mommies and daddies tomorrow."

That stopped Blaine short and he looked up at Kelly, shock overcoming his face. "You mean con_ference_, right?"

Kelly nodded, not catching her mistake. "Yeah, a confence. It's in my backpack. And the paper's pink!

Blaine groaned and got off the bed and went over to Kelly's The Avengers backpack (yet another gift from Sam) sitting by the door and began to dig through her things. "Why didn't you tell me this earlier, Kelly?" Blaine asked through the rustles of papers and books.

"Because I forgot," Kelly said from her bed, like it was the most logically thing in the world.

Blaine's eyebrows furrowed deeper as he finally found the bright pink sheet of paper that Kelly told him of wedged between a pack of colored pencils and a folder filled with worksheets. He pulled it out from the depths of the bag, carefully so he didn't damage it. "Is this it?" he asked, waving it for Kelly to see.

"Yeah, that's it. Are you in trouble, daddy? Are all of the other mommies and daddies in trouble too?"

"No sweetheart," Blaine answered, not really paying to his daughter. He scanned over the paper, telling him that the conference were for all parents and just to tell them what to expect for the course of the year and just to meet the parents. "Your teacher wants the conference so he could meet with all of the parents. It's nothing to worry about."

"Okay. Can we continue reading now?"

"Sure, if you're not tired yet," Blaine said, folding up the paper and shoving it in his pants pocket and heading back to Kelly's bed. He picked up the book and scanned the page to find his spot.

"You ready?"

Kelly nodded, and Blaine began to read once again.

*"'The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere. The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it.'"*

Just as Blaine finished the sentence, he was expecting for Kelly to ask the obvious: what _was _the secret? But one glance away from the book to his daughter showed that she was peacefully asleep, quietly breathing in and out of her mouth, which was slightly agape.

The sight of Kelly was so precious Blaine had to smile fondly at her, despite her being sound asleep. As quietly as possible, without even rustling the pages of the book, Blaine closed it and slid it on top of her bedside table. He snapped off the bedside lamp, and leaned down to kiss Kelly softly on the forehead. Kelly squirmed slightly and rolled over just as Blaine pulled away, and he began to inch his way out of the bedroom, shutting the bedroom door behind him with the softest _thud_ possible.

Once Blaine let go of his tight grip on the doorknob, he whipped out his phone and called the last number that he used as he made his way over to the sofa in front of the television set. It only was half past eight and Blaine expected Sam to answer almost immediately. He wasn't surprised when Sam answered on the first ring.

"Bro, whatever Kelly said, I didn't do it."

Blaine crossed his arm. "Really? Well, too bad. She told me everything."

"Wait, what _did_ she tell you?"

"I don't know, I was messing with you," but the silence on the other line said enough. "Hold on, what did you do?"

Blaine could hear the very audible gulp, although it was slightly muffled. "I may or may not have given Kelly more than just an apple for snack after school."

"I'm guessing Oreos, right?"

"Dude, she had _begged _me for five straight minutes. If it got her to be quiet for the rest of the night, then it was like, a no-brainer."

"Look, I'll settle the scores later with the two of you," said Blaine, "but I need to ask you something, and you're going to have to repeat some of this to Quinn yourself later."

"Sure, what's up?"

"Did you know that Kelly's teacher had scheduled a conference for all of the parents of his students tomorrow?"

"Nope. Kelly never told me that. Why?"

"Well," Blaine pulled out the sheet of paper, "I need Quinn to stay a little longer with Kelly. Apparently, the meeting is at five and doesn't end until six. And I guess I have to figure out a way to get out of work a little earlier so I can drive there in time, but can you ask Quinn if she could do it?"

"Of course, hold on." There was silence and murmurs from the other end and Blaine waited patiently for Sam to come back on the line.

After a few more moments, Sam came back. "Good news! Quinn can make it. Bad news, though. She has a meeting at six thirty with one of her bosses and she needs to leave as soon as possible. Do you think you could do that?"

"I'll do my best, even if it means leaving halfway during."

"Don't worry; it's only a five to ten minute drive for her."

"Then yes, that sounds perfect."

"Excellent! Quinn will see you tomorrow and tell the little brat that I said hi."

"Of course. I'll see you."

"See ya, man."

Blaine was first to end the call and slipped the phone back in his pocket along with the pink slip of paper. Looking over at the oven clock told him that it wasn't even nine yet. With a defeated sigh, Blaine trudged over to his bedroom and got ready for his own night's rest. Might as well, especially that he has a bright and early day tomorrow filled with interesting events.

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**= the following quotes don't belong to me and are used for story purposes. All respectful characters, places, and storyline belong to their rightful owner and not me.

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**A/N: I'm also looking for a beta! If anyone's interested let me know because I need one (but ps, I'm terrible with technology and I have very little awareness of how to work the beta reader). Just talk to me to let me know!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Woo! Another chapter! Go me! But anyways, thank you all for a great response ****which is rather pathetic for me but whatever**** so I want to give shout outs to my only two reviewers, ****_Anon_**** and ****_Klaine14forever_**** thank you for giving me more motivation to update faster! Thank you also to the lovely followers, and to the readers who stayed silent; ****_I know who you are._**

**WARNINGS (already?)- just some serious cussing in the end, but I'm not gonna say why**

**I hope you enjoy, and I'll see you at the bottom for end notes!**

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"Kelly, let's go!" Blaine shouted through his daughter's bedroom door. "You've been getting dressed for ten minutes now."

"It's just so hard to choose an outfit," Kelly yelled back.

Blaine groaned and looked at his phone. They had to leave for school in twenty minutes and he hadn't even started making Kelly's breakfast, or even his own. But how hard was it to choose an outfit? He was simply wearing slightly baggy jeans that would be slightly hidden behind his apron with a button-up plaid t-shirt.

"Well, hurry up; otherwise I'm going to choose your outfit for you." Blaine warned her.

"No!" Kelly cried out immediately. "I'll hurry, I'll hurry!"

With a satisfied smile, Blaine left and made his way back to the kitchen, and began to prepare her breakfast, and to start making his own. Before he knew it, he was sitting down with toast, a bowl of Frosted Flakes, a glass of orange juice (with no pulp: Kelly despised the pulp) and a yogurt right beside him. He always had a big breakfast because he was always hungry in the morning and he never knew when Charlie would give him his lunch break, and even for how long to even eat his lunch.

Finally, Kelly came skipping in with a complete outfit and approached her father. "Daddy, I want waffles for breakfast."

"Sweetie, you can't have waffles," Blaine said as he scooped another spoonful of yogurt. "We're running late because you couldn't decide what to wear. And besides, you had pancakes yesterday."

Kelly pouted. "Fine." Then she stomped over to the fridge to grab a jug of milk.

Blaine was unimpressed by Kelly's display of frustration, and continued to eat his yogurt clean. Just as his daughter sat down across from him with a bowl of cereal, Blaine was already cleaning up and putting every food product away back in its rightful place.

He gasped when he saw the oven clock; they had to leave in five minutes otherwise Kelly would be late… again.

"Okay, Kelly, we need to go now," Blaine said, as he walked back to his room in search for his wallet.

"So that means no pigtails?" Kelly asked from the kitchen, casually taking another bite of cereal like she wasn't in a rush like her father.

"You can have pigtails if we get to Hawkins with an extra minute to spare, which is very unlikely at this point," Blaine told her, "and that means we need to leave now."

"Alright, daddy, hold on," Kelly stood up and dumped her bowl in the sink behind her and ran back to her room.

"Ugh," Blaine groaned. His hand was already wrapped around the doorknob and he tapped his foot anxiously. "Kelly, you're supposed to be ready!"

"Hold on, I need to get my backpack!" Kelly yelled.

Already Blaine was opening the door the second he saw Kelly practically sprint out of her room with her backpack securely on her back with her sleek black hair flowing behind her.

Together they raced down the metal staircase once Blaine locked up the apartment (there were even some days where Blaine totally forgot when the two of them were in an even bigger hurry). They sprinted past Natasha, who glared at them with steely eyes as they burst through the door and run to the Catania parking lot reserved exclusively to their residents. Blaine and Kelly found their car and hopped in with panting breaths.

"Okay, Kelly, do you have everything?" Blaine asked, his hand clutching his car keys already slotted in the ignition. He looked at his daughter in the backseat from the front view mirror as she ruffled through her backpack.

"I'm good!" she said with a thumbs-up. "I have everything!"

"Great," was all Blaine said as he turned the ignition and began to back up from the parking space.

He was already on the road when his daughter began to ramble about what was in stored for school that day. Her eyes seemed to sparkle like glitter as she spoke rather considerate of her teacher, Mr. Hummel. To Blaine, it was like Kelly's teacher had changed her perspective on how to look at school as more of a day filled with fun instead of doing the daily chores that had to be done with no questions asked. Usually Kelly never had enjoyed school, despite only going to preschool and kindergarten beforehand. And now, she couldn't stop babbling; she could go on forever.

"Forever" in the context ended when Blaine pulled up in the front drop-off entrance of Hawkins Elementary. Blaine looked back at Kelly, who sighed as she grabbed her backpack from the floor and put one of the shoulder straps on her shoulder.

"Bye daddy," she said, leaning forward to kiss Blaine on the cheek.

"Bye, sweetie," Blaine said, "have a great day."

"You too!" The car door slammed behind her and she skipped up the steps, quickly merging in with the other students trying to get inside.

Blaine made sure Kelly was in the building before driving out. Inside, the car was silent without Kelly's constant ramble that always kept Blaine's ears and mind occupied. To fill the silence, Blaine turned on the radio station and winced when he heard the familiar One Direction song that hit the top forty charts and stayed at number one since the end of the summer. Lucky for him, Kelly never really liked the teenage heartthrob boy band, just like him, and listened to some of the songs that were popular when he was a teenager.

With a disgusted scoff, Blaine switched the station and groaned when it was the same damn song. He switched the station yet again before the chorus could get stuck in his head for the rest of the day. He sighed in sheer relief when he finally settled on a station that exclusively played just-newly released songs, no matter the popularity.

The drive back to Catania Apartments was short with only one or two stoplights that slowed him down. He parked his car back in his assigned space and got out. One great advantage that Blaine loved about his job was that it was a quick two-three minute walk down the street from his apartment building. That always meant that he could leave for work nearly at the last minute and still be there on time.

Blaine's work time slot was from nine in the morning to five in the evening, every weekday and had the weekends off. At the moment, Blaine had only fifteen minutes to get to the Cardinal Diner, so he might as well get on his way.

As usual, like Blaine had always predicted, the walk was short and he entered the diner with ten minutes before his shift began. He greeted Tanya at the entrance, who led a couple to a table. He also gave a quick hello to Henry, one of the newest waiters who was serving a woman in a business suit her breakfast. Despite everyone in the diner being tightly knit together, Blaine was closer to Stacy the most.

It never took too long to find his friend. She was in the kitchen, dutifully washing the dishes. "Good morning, Blaine," Stacy said when Blaine approached her. "How's Kelly?"

"Great," Blaine responded, leaning against the counter of the sinks. "How're you doing?"

"Not so good," she said. "Unfortunately, Andrew hasn't come yet, so I'm stuck with dishes." She sighed as she continued to scrub a plate. "Charlie is such an ass. And so is Andrew."

"Be careful, Charlie's got eyes everywhere," Blaine warned her with a playful smile.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he has hidden cameras in every corner of this restaurant," said Stacy.

Blaine nodded. "Obviously."

She nudged his shoulder with her elbow. "Aren't you going to start your shift?"

"Might as well," Blaine said with a sigh. "I'll catch you around."

"See you," Stacy said.

Blaine left her to grab yet another apron in a closet in the back of the kitchen (once again, he left the other apron from yesterday back somewhere in the apartment) and tied it on. Then he made his way out of the kitchen to begin his shift.

He found Tanya again. Tanya was a thirty-year old brunette with a bob working to get a college degree for journalism. She was in charge of assigning the waiters and waitresses their sections for the day, each day varying on whoever decided to show up that day.

For today, Blaine explained Tanya his situation. Tanya was very sympathetic, for she gave him the smallest amount of tables and booths to give him the greater chance of leaving early for the school conference. No matter how many times Blaine thanked her and told her how much he owed her, Tanya brushed it off and told him to shut up and get to work.

The day zoomed by with no troubles at all; it was a miracle and one of the easiest days Blaine had in a long time. Each table or booth that he served was patient, kind, and gave him pretty good tips. This day couldn't get any better.

Around three in the afternoon, he even got a text from Quinn, reassuring him that Kelly was safe in her possession and they were at the apartment. Quinn also told him that she wouldn't give her any extra snacks like what Sam did yesterday. Of course, she also sent him a picture of Kelly playing with her Captain America action figure in her bedroom that had him giggling. His daughter was something else. She loved superheroes, and Blaine swore that she was deep down inside a boy at heart. Especially that everyday Sam inspired her to love everything Marvel and to hate everything DC comics and My Little Pony.

Finally, it was fifteen minutes until five and Blaine had just finished cleaning up the table of his most recent customers. He felt Stacy approach from behind and place a hand on his shoulder. "Doing okay Anderson?"

"Great," Blaine said, not slowing down on wiping down the table. "For once, I had a pretty good day. Nice tips, nice customers, and now if my luck can keep up, I can leave in a minute or two so I can make it to the conference."

"Well, your luck is still going strong because Andrew finally came," Stacy told him, moving in front of him so she could meet his eyes, "and Charlie was beyond pissed. So he's going to take over your section, under my orders. I swear, that kid's afraid of me."

"Awesome." Blaine said. But his tone was tired, and Stacy frowned.

"Is something wrong?" she asked sincerely.

It was a few moments before he responded. "It's just… I owe everyone so much. From shifts, to sections, to time, it's unfair. Why doesn't anyone realize that I'm practically cheating on everyone?"

Stacy bit her lip and her frown deepened. "Blaine, sweetie, we all care about you. And ever since, um, Casey…" she drifted off when she saw Blaine froze for barely half a second before stiffly continuing his cleaning, "…it's just we all want to help. Most of us here have this job just because. We're not the ones that need the money to barely get by like you. And you have a five year old, for Christ's sake."

"Six year old," Blaine automatically corrected her.

"The age of your kid doesn't make a difference," said Stacy. "Just… let us help you when we can. We all want to help, especially me. Okay?"

Blaine had finally stopped cleaning to stand in front of her. His eyes were watering up and he still had a small smile set upon his face. "Thank you. Really."

Stacy smiled and opened her arms, wide and welcoming. And Blaine had to grin, because he really liked Stacy. She was another best friend that was so amazing words couldn't describe her. Blaine had sunk into her embrace and hugged her tightly. They stayed that was for only a few seconds before they parted with equally wide smiles.

"Now go," Stacy ordered with a pat on his shoulder. "Andrew and I will take care of things around here."

"Thank you. Again." Blaine said.

"Oh, here, I can also take your apron," she offered with her hand out.

Blaine nodded, untying it and slipping it off of him with ease and handing it to Stacy's waiting hand. "I'll see you tomorrow," Blaine said. He began to walk towards the door when he heard Stacy shout "good luck" at him with a thumbs-up. How he loved Stacy.

He was already on the sidewalk, heading back to Catania when he felt his phone buzz in his front pocket. When he took a glance at it, there was a text from Quinn, reminding him of the conference at Kelly's school. Blaine couldn't help but smirk; he was one step ahead of Sam's girlfriend. He sent a quick text, telling her that he already left the Cardinal Diner and was heading straight to his car. Quinn responded within seconds, wishing him good luck.

Blaine was at his car, unlocking the door and hopping in. When he started the ignition, he still had a little less than ten minutes to reach Hawkins Elementary. His luck was still holding out for him; he got there in three minutes, an all time record. There even was a parking space available right at the main entrance of the school.

The halls were quiet and empty, and with each step Blaine took it echoed across the halls. Blaine took out the pink slip of paper from his back pocket that contained the information about Mr. Hummel's conference with all of the parents. Along with the times that the parents must arrive on, there was the room number and simple directions leading to the classroom. Mr. Hummel's room number was 107, on the hall to the left of the main office and entrance.

And Blaine couldn't believe that he actually found the room. Number 107 was printed in black right next to the door, with Mr. Hummel's name printed right below it. Blaine heard murmurs of people talking coming from the room, so he stepped inside.

The classroom exploded in Blaine's face. Art works were plastered on the walls of the room; there were posters of motivating messages, and even a few small potted plants sitting on a windowsill. A big bulletin board was hanging on the wall with the names of Mr. Hummel's students and small pictures right beside them. Blaine couldn't help but smile at Kelly's picture; her face happy and bright, her smile showing off holes in her mouth were teeth would've been. Desks were arranged in groups of four or five, but instead of students, the chairs were filled with parents that were too big to be sitting on them anyways.

Despite being both mothers and fathers in the room, Blaine was able to find space to stand in the far back of the small classroom. No one was paying attention to his wondering eyes as he soaked the atmosphere around him. He did have to admit, it was a great place for Kelly to be taught her education.

Finally, the quiet chatters of the adults halted as a young man stepped up to the front of the room. Blaine couldn't help but stare. The man was taller than himself, with broad shoulders that didn't look bulky or thin and frail. His legs trailed on forever and his hair was styled in a fashionable coif with a small strand of hair falling onto his forehead. His skin was pale, and his complexion went well with the outfit he donned: tight skinny jeans with polished loafers and a bright green shirt with orange flowers with a small neck scarf draped around his neck. Blaine's wondering eyes were all over the place on the man, and he was shocked to find that he unconsciously had his jaw dropped wide open.

"Good evening, parents," the man greeted, snapping Blaine right out of his momentarily daze. "I'll get started with this by telling you that I'm actually brainwashing your kids to join the mafia."

Blaine couldn't help but grin widely and many other parents chuckled at the joke and the man smiled proudly, knowing that he got the crowd of parents on his side.

"Anyways," the man continued. "I'm Kurt Hummel, and I'm responsible for your children's education, which, let me tell you, is a big responsibility to handle. I'm happy that many of you have come tonight, for you all must have busy schedules to squeeze me in, so I really appreciate it."

Mr. Hummel chatted a little longer about how his teaching methods and the goals to reach before the end of the year. Then he moved on to a quick review of big projects and events that he just wanted to make sure that the parents were aware of. Between long periods of time of when he was talking, he would crack a few funny jokes, some of them a little borderline of child-friendly. Now Blaine was absolutely certain that Kelly was in the right hands and he could see why exactly Kelly wouldn't shut up about her first grade teacher.

"And finally," Mr. Hummel said, "I would love to meet everyone individually so I can talk more privately about each student's current progress and grades. The meetings aren't really necessary, but I recommend it if you want to know up close how well your child is doing. If you want to sign up, just talk to me, or if you're in a hurry to get to places," he held up a clipboard high in the air for everyone to see, "I have this clipboard here that you just put your name and email on and I can contact you when you're available to schedule a proper time for you," he placed the clipboard on a small table next to him. "And that's all. Thank you all once again, and I hope to see you all alive tomorrow and hopefully with no critical injuries brought upon your own children."

More chuckles as everyone abruptly stood up to either make their way out of the room or towards the clipboard. Mr. Hummel just stood there, and no one went over to him. It seemed it was like those were the only options available.

Blaine chose neither of those options and made his way over to Mr. Hummel himself.

"Oh, hi," Mr. Hummel said. He held out his hand and smiled at Blaine just as he approached him. "I think you know who I am at this point, right? Or do I need to review?"

"No thanks," Blaine said, taking Mr. Hummel's hand in a firm grasp. Damn, his hands were really soft.

"And sorry, but you are?" Mr. Hummel asked with a curious raise of his eyebrows once he shook Blaine's hand.

Blaine chuckled. "Sorry. I'm Blaine. Blaine Anderson. I believe you teach Kelly, or am I talking to the wrong teacher?"

Mr. Hummel smiled widely. "Of course I know Kelly! She's an absolute sweetheart! Kind of quiet in class, but a wonderful and bright student."

Blaine furrowed his eyebrows at that one compliment of how quiet Kelly was. But for the moment, he brushed it aside. "Really? Well, that's good. I taught her well."

"You sure did, Mr. Anderson," Mr. Hummel said.

"Please, call me Blaine. 'Mr. Anderson' reminds me of my father, which I'm nowhere near close to being."

"Then call me Kurt," Mr. Hummel… Kurt told him.

"Of course."

"Anyways, introductions aside, are there things I can do for you? Perhaps give you a guaranteed time slot for more time with moi?"

Blaine laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, which was probably flushing a bright red at the moment. "Yes, actually. I really would like to have a conference to talk about Kelly-"

Kurt's faced scrunched up with confusion. "What? I thought we were going to talk about my good looks?"

Now Blaine was absolutely positive that his whole face was brighter than a freaking tomato. "Obviously. I totally came here to talk about y-your good looks."

Kurt shook his head. "Ignore me Blaine, I'm only teasing," he walked over to a desk, presumably his own, and pulled out a planner from a drawer.

"Are you putting me in? Like, right now?" Blaine asked, curiously peering over to see what's inside.

"Of course," Kurt said. "Now, I start conferences on Thursday right after school, which is three, and each conference can last about ten to twenty minutes. You're catching on?" Blaine nodded, a sign for Kurt to continue. "And I stop right at five thirty sharp. No questions asked. A man's gotta eat, you know."

"Of course, of course."

"Is there a specific time that I can put you for?"

Blaine had to think for a moment, but it was really simple. He could have that last time slot so that way he wouldn't have to leave the Cardinal Diner early like today.

"Can I have the latest slot possible? On Thursday?"

Kurt hummed. "On it," he pulled out a pen from his back pocket and jotted Blaine's name right at fifteen after six on Thursday evening. "There," Kurt said, simultaneously snapping the planner shut. "You're on my schedule, and I don't like people arriving even a single second late. Got it?" His eyes were digging right into Blaine's, but Blaine could tell he couldn't keep up the seriousness by the way his eyes twinkled playfully and how he had to keep a grin at bay.

"Yes sir," Blaine said with a salute.

"Thank you. You can be dismissed now," Kurt said, his serious façade coming down. "I'll see you Thursday."

Blaine nodded as he began to head towards the door. "I'll see you Thursday!"

They both waved and said more goodbyes as Blaine disappeared down the hall. And just as Blaine realized he had left the classroom, he noticed that he was the last one out, and probably the only person left in the entire school besides Kurt and the janitor lurking around somewhere.

Nonetheless, Blaine couldn't stop grinning as he left Hawkins Elementary property.

xXxXx

"Honey, I'm home," Kurt called out as he entered his apartment that night. Of course, he really didn't want to yell out to his fiancé when his voice was already hoarse from all of the talking he did this evening. But he had to let him know that he was home; Tony always wanted to know the second he came home for whatever reason. Over the course of their relationship Kurt has chosen to ignore it and accept it as just a thing that his fiancé wanted to know.

There was silence as Kurt wiped the bottoms of his shoes on the carpet at the entrance before the reply came. "I'm in here."

Kurt walked through the small hallway to find Tony lounging on the couch, sipping on a bottle of Mountain Dew watching Dance Moms. Of course, Kurt has despised that show with every inch of his soul, while his fiancé clearly enjoyed this kind of reality television.

"Are you really going to continue watching that hag torture her students instead of saying hello?" Kurt asked, turning his head in disgust as the teacher continued to put down her dancers and treat them like poverty.

"Hold on," he said, "this is getting good. Christina's pissed at Abby and she's gonna confront her after the stupid commercial break."

Kurt sighed, and dropped his satchel on the kitchen island counter and pulled out his planner. Blaine Anderson's name was the only name in there, and he couldn't help but let his mind wonder to the kind man that was the father of one of his favorite students (not that he always had favorites or something…).

He squeaked when he felt Tony wrap his arms around his waist. "What's that you got there, babe?" His height, being only a few inches taller than Kurt, made it easier for him to wrap himself around Kurt.

Kurt shrugged and closed the planner. "I'm just checking the conferences for the parents that I'm having."

"Why did you choose to have conferences this year?" Tony asked, still keeping Kurt under his tight embrace.

"I'm hoping it can improve the connections that I have with the students and their parents," Kurt explained almost hesitantly, tucking the planner right back into the front satchel pocket. It was a little unusual to have Tony interested in his job. "It's just an experiment I want to try for this year. Why you ask?"

Tony hummed. "I'm just surprised that you have decided so suddenly. I mean, I thought we'd spend the evening doing other productive activities, like planning for the wedding. Or, even better, the honeymoon."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Of course you want to start planning the honeymoon, you corndog."

Tony laughed. "What can I say? There's a lot to like about honeymoons."

"Well, besides planning honeymoons," Kurt said, making his way out of Tony's arms to head towards the fridge, "did you start making dinner? It's your turn tonight to make salads."

There wasn't a response as Kurt took a few moments to get a bottle water out of the refrigerator. He spun around to see Tony biting his lower lip almost guiltily.

"Are you serious?" Kurt said incredulously. "Are you shitting on me? C'mon, Tony, it's your turn! It's been your turn for days now! What happened to our dinner agreement?"

"I'm sorry, Kurt," Tony said, his voice climbing almost hysterically. "I was busy."

"Doing what? Watching that god-awful show? That degrades young girls and their talents?"

"Kurt, listen to me!" Tony yelled. "I was busy with dentistry work! I even had to bring a lot of work home."

"Oh, of course you were," Kurt hissed, his voice dripping with venom. "I'm just sick and tired of your laziness. Have you even picked up our rings yet from the sizing job? They've been gone for three days now."

There was a slight flinch and hesitation before Tony could respond. "Now, hold on a minute-"

Kurt gasped. "Are you serious?"

"I didn't have any fucking time!" Tony argued. "Like I said, I was busy! How many times do I have to tell you? I. Don't. Have. Time."

Kurt nearly screamed in pure rage; he could feel his own veins in his body pulsing as he saw his fiancé lying to him, right in front of his face. He always knew when Tony was lying, from not doing the dishes when it was his turn to this.

Finally, some of the anger washed over and deep disappointment and silent frustration came in like a tidal wave. He grabbed his satchel and hoisted it over his shoulder and began to make his way out of his own home. He didn't even bother to look into his fiancé's nearly bloodshot eyes.

Tony wasn't expecting the sudden move and reached out to grab Kurt's arm in a desperate attempt to hold him back. "Where the hell are you going?"

"I'm going to go grab dinner, since you're incapable of preparing a simple fucking salad." With that, Kurt yanked his arm out of Tony's grasp and stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

**A/N: Thoughts? Suggestions? Leave a review! Otherwise Blaine won't be able to attend his conference with Kurt :P**

**Still looking for a beta! Anyone interested?**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry, but this a short filler. A few things are answered but not much is given out. To make up for it, I'll post another chapter later this week.**

**Shout-out to my reviewers: ****to yet another Anon (Hi there! Are you the same anon from earlier? If so welcome back :)) and FangirlingTooHard(I'm so glad to give you more Klaine :P we all need more Klaine in our lives)**

**For those Marvel people out there, I squeezed in a few GOTG quotes, and I find ****_one_**** of them quite important despite in the movie it was used in a comical way. Try to find it (and the other one too), and I'll give you a special shout-out!**

**Enjoy!**

**(*_cough* review/criticisms please *cough* to make this story *cough* better)_**

* * *

There was no doubt in mind that Blaine was humming, quite loudly too, for the whole world to hear. The conference went well, Stacy had set aside his guilt that he didn't even know that he had, and he even got some good tips from satisfied customers. And he couldn't forget to add one Mr. Kurt Hummel to his mental list of "Wonderful Events That Happened Today".

He was in a cheerful mood as he said his usual hello to Natasha, who was still glaring at him with cold eyes, and made his up the rusty metal stairs back up to his apartment, to his home.

Unlike the day before, there was no sounds of cheering or groaning or the sounds of karts falling off their tracks in the middle of a race followed by even more cheering and groaning. As much as Blaine loved Sam, sometimes he liked coming home in the evening to a quiet home. That was what Quinn was great for.

When Blaine had unlocked his apartment door, he could smell the aroma of Quinn's rather famous homemade Chicken Pot Pie, filled with delicious gravy, fresh carrots and beans, and the mouth-watering smell of wonderfully cooked chicken.

Maybe that was another reason why Blaine would prefer Quinn to Sam.

Upon entering the kitchen, he saw Kelly doodling on a piece of paper while Quinn was busy at the stove. But at the sound of the door quietly shutting, Kelly's attention shot up from the paper and to Blaine.

"Daddy," Kelly said, "you're home!"

She rushed over to Blaine, who immediately grinned at the sight of Kelly running into his arms.

"Well, well, well," Quinn said, once Kelly was settled in Blaine's arms. "Look who decided to show up. Is that really you, Blaine?"

"Look who decided to forget her meeting," Blaine countered with a similar teasing smile mirrored from Quinn.

She simply shrugged as she turned back to the stove. "It got canceled. The boss came down with a nasty stomach flu at the last second, according to the secretary."

"That means she's staying," Kelly told Blaine, clearly approving Quinn's change of plans.

Blaine nodded and smiled at Kelly's gloriously wide smile. "That she is. And will she also stay here forever? Because she makes the most _amazing _meals in the world."

Quinn giggled and shook her head. "I think I know why now Sam has kept me all these years, huh?"

"That's because you're pretty, Aunt Quinn," Kelly told her earnestly as Blaine set her down back on the ground. "And Uncle Sam loves you very, very, _very _much. Just as much as I do."

Quinn cooed at the compliment and how serious Kelly was. "Thank you sweetheart. And I love you too, very, very, _very _much."

Kelly beamed like she just won the lottery and scurried out of the kitchen towards her bedroom, most likely to play with her Captain America action figure saving Columbus.

The kitchen was silent, sans the sound of the stove sizzling and popping. Blaine had to admire Quinn for taking care of his daughter so well (and so much better than Sam). If it wasn't for her job, being a steadily climbing high quality lawyer, she would without a doubt take care of Kelly more often, as she told Blaine the first day she babysat her.

"When will dinner be ready?" Blaine asked.

Quinn shrugged, as she turned off the stove. "In fifteen minutes, maybe twenty, at the most. Why?"

"Just want to give Kelly some fatherly love," Blaine told her. "You've been too much of a motherly figure to her and I don't like it."

Quinn laughed, throwing her head back. "That's right, Anderson, I'm here to take over your job," she giggled, and waved her hand as if to dismiss Blaine. "Go. You definitely need to give Kelly some fatherly love."

With a quick kiss on Quinn's cheek, Blaine made his way over to Kelly's bedroom. He peeked in through the slightly ajar door, to see Kelly on the bed, talking _to _Captain America.

"I really wish you could come to school with me, Steve Rodgers, so that way you could keep me company," Kelly spoke directly to the action figure, toying with its arms. She sighed. "But I know some of the other kids in my class will think I'm weird, or whatever. It's stupid. My classmates are stupid."

Blaine's heart crashed and his hands clenched the door tighter. He worried his bottom lip until it stung and was nearly bleeding, and continued to watch his daughter.

"Steve, do you think I should ask Daddy to take you to school tomorrow?" She asked, just like she was talking to another human. "It would make recess more fun, and I will keep you in my cubby when Mr. Hummel is teaching." She stared at the toy for a few moments, and Blaine knew that she got the response she wanted when a beautiful and precious smile dawned on her face, similar to the ones she gave to the people she loved.

"Thank you, Captain America," then she clutched the action figure tightly in her chest. Blaine also noticed how she referred him as his super identity instead of his ego, Steve Rodgers. This also seemed to wreck Blaine in several more pieces.

Blaine finally got his senses together and gently rapped his knuckles on the door. Kelly snapped out of her moment with Captain America, and smiled at her father.

"Hey Kelly Cake, what're you doing?" Blaine asked.

"Playing with Captain America," she said, pulling the figure out of her embrace.

Blaine blinked at the casualness. "Really?"

"Mmhmm. He's still one of my favorite gifts that Uncle Sam got me. Can I see the movie?"

"Sorry sweetie, you're too young. There is a lot of complicated stuff in it."

Kelly cocked her head. "Like what?"

"Um," Blaine walked over to her bed so he sat right next to her. "Before Steve Rodgers turns to Captain America here," he pointed at the figure, "Steve Rodgers wasn't as powerful."

"Like he didn't have superpowers?"

"Exactly. He was a normal person, and smaller too. He didn't have all of these muscles that the Cap's got," Blaine explained. "In fact, he was skinny and very lightweight."

Kelly nodded thoughtfully as her brain works hard to process the information.

"When Steve got in the army, it was because he wanted to be something in life, wanted to _give_ something to society. And no matter how courageous Steve was, the army was hard on him. But when, um, really smart people," Blaine had to be careful not to explain the premises too much to the point where it ruined the movie experience later on, "noticed his fearlessness and bravery, he got this special medicine to make him the man that he was."

"That makes sense," Kelly said, "and Captain America is that person. Brave, courageous, fearless, ya know. It's awesome."

"It is. There's more, but I don't want to ruin the movie for you later on."

Kelly pouted but leant into Blaine's chest and snuggled tightly. "Thank you for the lesson. I love you, daddy."

"I love you too."

Then Kelly suddenly sprang up with a gleeful look on her face. "Oh, and Uncle Sam wants me to watch another movie with him, but he told me to ask you if you will let me."

Blaine groaned playfully, but nonetheless asked, "and what movie is it?"

"Guardians of the Galaxy, I think it's called," Kelly told him. "And Uncle Sam even taught me a line!" She stood up dramatically on the bed and placed her hands on her hips in a heroic stance. "Ain't no thing like me, except _me_!"

Blaine's smile couldn't be wider and he clapped his hands. "That's wonderful. But, that's a good line, right?" He grabbed Kelly and hugged her tight, never planning to let his daughter go. "There is no one else like you."

"Exactly," Kelly said, her response muffled. "I'm awesome, and people have to deal with it."

Blaine thought Kelly couldn't have been more adorable.

But the moment broke when there was a loud _slam _that had them jump nearly a foot in the air.

"What was that?" Kelly asked in wonderment, her eyes moving side to side around her bedroom to find the source of the noise.

Blaine looked up towards the ceiling. "It sounded like it came from the floor above us," but he was unsure himself.

"Is everything okay in here?" Quinn came in, a wooden spoon tightly clutched in her hand.

"We're fine," Blaine reassured her, "it wasn't us; it was from upstairs. I'm guessing someone had shut their door really loudly."

Quinn scoffed. "Sometimes people can be so rude."

"I know, right?" Kelly agreed with a shake of her head.

"Anyways," said Quinn, "dinner's ready. I hope you all are hungry, otherwise I'm going to force feed you."

xXxXx

Kurt stormed out the door of his apartment building with his hand shoved deep in his pants pocket. It was quite effective for everyone to get out of his way; otherwise there was a chance of being run over. Even that weird receptionist at the apartment building looked frightened.

When entering upon the open air of Columbus, Kurt took a direction, in this case, right, and picked up the pace. He was starving, his stomach growling at him like a livid, wild animal, and if he didn't find a place to eat, he was going to eat the nearest human being. Maybe not a human being, but he was going to eat _anything _at this point.

It was only a minute of hastily walking past every single building that he passed when he spotted a diner (he went inside so quickly he didn't even catch the name). Luckily, inside the place was quiet with only a few loitering waiters and waitresses and only a small handful of customers. The atmosphere was quite nice and pleasant for a diner. Some of the other diners that Kurt had seen were noisy and unkempt, with terrible service and mediocre food.

How could he miss such lovely diner only a few minutes away from his home?

A brunette with a bob approached him. "Hi there, how many for tonight?"

For only so few people that can rock a bob, this woman have certainly met Kurt's standards. "Just one."

She nodded "Follow me, sir."

Kurt was led to a table for two in the corner of the diner; away from the kitchen and off to the side. Perfect.

The lady set the menu in front of him as Kurt took a seat, sending her away with a thank you accompanied with a small smile.

When Kurt opened the menu, he was quite impressed (and a little intimidated) by the selection. Just by a quick glance at the menu, he knew that he didn't have to get a salad like he always did. Not only was there a great variety but also each meal had what it looked like a good nutrition value.

He was still looking over the menu when another woman approached him. "Good evening sir, welcome to the Cardinal Diner. My name's Stacy, and I'll be your waitress tonight. Can I start you off with a drink?"

Kurt smiled at the etiquette that his waitress, Stacy, had. "Um, yeah, I'd just like a glass of water, thank you."

She whipped out her pad and jotted it down. "Great! Are you also ready to order, or do you want a few more minutes?"

"A few more minutes?"

"Of course," Stacy said, closing her pad and sliding it inside one of her pockets on her apron. "I'll be back with your water soon," and she left Kurt alone, walking nearly the entire diner to another table to help assist her other customers.

By the time Stacy returned, Kurt was still ambivalent and Stacy had seemed to read his mind.

"We have too much to offer, I know," Stacy said with a smirk.

"Any recommendations?" Kurt asked. "To replace a salad?"

Stacy nodded vigorously and opened the menu back open again. "I like the open faced roast beef sandwich," she told him. "It's not stocked with cholesterol and it's one of my favorites."

"I'll get it then," Kurt decided.

Stacy wrote the order down on her pad. "It comes with two sides, they're down at the bottom."

"Um, corn, and small salad," Kurt told her. "Might as well change it up a bit."

"Awesome," she collected the menu. "I'll get back to you with your meal _very _soon. Like, seriously, this place is _dead_."

Kurt chuckled as Stacy moved on. Stacy had never classified when "soon" was. Now his stomach seemed to be eating his insides, and it couldn't stop rumbling like an earthquake.

Thankfully, "soon" was barely fifteen minutes later, and Kurt was scarfing down a homemade meal that was made by his stepmother. And when Stacy checked up on him, he asked if they hired in professional mothers to cook. Stacy had burst out laughing, and responded by telling him that they only had six chefs in the kitchen, and none of them were professional moms. Only one of them was female, but she was passing on to seventy and was retiring the following year.

"Is there anything that I can do for you?" Stacy asked when she was clearing Kurt's table after cleaning each plate and bowl.

Kurt considered denying any dessert, but… "Do you happen to have good cheesecake?"

Stacy furrowed her eyebrows. "Uh, yeah, but not many people order it."

"Why not? Doesn't everyone love cheesecake?"

"Yeah, but it's our… _special_ cheesecake that's supposed to relieve any 'heartache' and 'melancholy' as it's labeled in the menu."

Kurt bit his lip. That was definitely a sign that he should've noticed before.

"Is everything okay?" Stacy asked sincerely. She even had put away her pad back in its pocket so she could slide into the other chair across from him.

Kurt opened his mouth, only to close it, and to open it again. Clearly, he wasn't expecting his waitress, for Christ's sake, to take the time to sit down in front him and help sort out his own issues.

"I-I guess," Kurt murmured. "I-I, I mean that, uh…"

Stacy grabbed his hand, and Kurt sputtered in protest. "You can tell me. Like I said, people who order our cheesecake has troubles in their lives and they need help."

Wetting his lips, Kurt considered just jumping out of his seat and all but dashing out of the diner, never to be heard from again. But he still had to pay (he couldn't dine-and-dash like that) and who knew? Maybe his waitress could help.

"It's my fiancé," Kurt reluctantly began. "He… He's just been so off lately." Kurt noticed that the woman didn't flinch or recoil at the reference to a gay couple but instead nodded vigorously for Kurt to continue with his story. "We have this dinner agreement, that every few days that we cook each other dinner depending on the other's schedule because we're so busy with out jobs."

"What that has that have to do with anything?" Stacy asked softly.

"Tony, my fiancé," Kurt clarified, "hasn't met up to it. He's been lazy, and many nights I come home to him and he's drinking Mountain Dew watching trashy reality television."

Stacy bit her lip, but was hanging onto every word. "That's not good. If I were you, I'd set him straight."

"I would," Kurt said, "but also, I can tell, he's been _lying _to me. I just don't know what. It's awful. Many nights I try not to go to bed at night with him."

"Has he acted any different lately?"

Kurt began to consider _every single event_ and every time he had seen his fiancé, searching deep inside his cavern of memories to hopefully dig up anything to give him a sign. He finally gave up when his head was starting to hurt.

"No. Nothing." Kurt responded.

"Hey, that's a good sign," Stacy said, the hopefulness rising in her voice. She clutched Kurt's hand tighter. "Maybe you two just had a misunderstanding, and you two should talk it out. You have to learn not to get so uptight so quickly when one little thing is off."

Kurt chuckled. "I don't learn. One of my issues."

Stacy shook her head and smiled. "Well, hey, it's an issue you should work on," she stood up and pulled out her pad and pen. "Now, do you still want that cheesecake?"

"Nope. Just the check." Kurt told her with a smile nearly breaking his face.

"Of course."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: ****Anyone else upset with these shitty and inexcusable "blainosky" so called spoilers? I demand for all of you to express your rage via review, please and thank you. **

**Shout out to Linneabe for her review! Meatballs are totally awesome. What country are you from? I'm living in the (kinda lovely?) US :)**

**When do you want updates? I'm cracking down on my schedule. How do Thursdays or Fridays sound?**

**That's all. ENJOY!**

* * *

The next day for Blaine seemed to disappear like a magic trick. It flew by, from getting up and ushering Kelly to school, to getting through his lunch break, to walking home after his shift, nearly skipping down the sidewalk, humming to a tune he didn't even know. Whatever it was, he surely was happier than he was ever since he attended the teacher parent conference for Mr. Hummel, or Kurt, as he preferred to be called by him. Did other parents have granted permission to call him by his first name instead by his surname too?

Of course, when he arrived back at the apartment in one of the happiest moods in quite some time, he could see the confusion and suspicions written all over Sam's face while Kelly didn't question his cheeriness, but even became more happy herself. Blaine's spirits had lifted the entire apartment.

The next day was the conference, and Blaine was still feeling his happiness, which blew up tenfold. Even when doing his shift at the Cardinal Diner, everyone noticed his more _chipper _side than from yesterday. Stacy had asked multiple times throughout the day why in the world he was so happy, ranging her questions from meeting someone (in bed, she added) to an outstanding accomplishment from Kelly. But no matter how times Stacy pried relentlessly and persistently, Blaine would simply give her a wide smile, the edge of eyes wrinkling and his teeth gleaming for the entire world to see.

As he twirled the ring of keys on his finger, he began to whistle once again as he made his way back to Catania Apartments, as usual, this time he was _actually _skipping on the sidewalk and his grin widening every time he passed a stranger, who gave him peculiar looks in reply. Upon entering his car, he began to tap his fingers to a steady beat as he continued to whistle, and hey, he might as well turn on the radio and jam out as he made his way to Hawkins Elementary School.

Before he knew it, he was already standing in front of Mr. Hummel's classroom door, with palms uncharacteristically sweating and twitching fingers, anxious to do anything but rap his knuckles on the closed wooden door to the classroom where he would have to endure more jokes from Kurt and making a total fool out of himself.

He didn't even realize he knocked on the door and the door swinging open to show Kurt, smiling, his entire face lighting up like a Christmas tree. And what shocked Blaine nearly speechless was to find Kurt's clothing ensemble rather stunning: painted on lime green jeans with a white dress shirt, even whiter combat boots climbing up to his knees and yet another scarf, this time a small bright neck red scarf. To say his outfits were eccentric and "out there" was an understatement. Blaine felt a little underdressed in only jeans that weren't baggy or tight around each and every curve of his lower body, comfortable laced shoes, and a simple blue button up with no colorful pattern.

"Blaine, hi," Kurt greeted. "You made great timing. Come on in!"

Kurt stepped aside to allow him into the classroom. He wasn't surprised to find the room hadn't change, except for the tables have been arranged differently, with chairs stacked up on top of the majority of them with the legs sticking out, ready to reach out and jab someone unexpected in the stomach.

As his eyes once again continued to wonder around endlessly, Blaine didn't notice the teacher until he cleared his throat, loud and purposefully, to get his attention.

"Come have a seat," Kurt told him, patting the small kiddie chair across form him, "If I have to sit on these tiny chairs not made for adults' asses, then so do you."

Blaine chuckled and made his way over. "Please tell me you don't use that kind of language in front of the kids."

Kurt waved a hand. "Oh, heavens no. The worse I've said in front of them was 'oh my goodness' and one poor kid thought I swore or something ridiculous."

And much to his disappointment, Kurt was right; his rear end was too big for the chairs, and he almost slid off.

"See what I mean?" Kurt snickered at Blaine's futile attempts to find a comfy position. He opened a big white binder next to him and only turned a few pages while Blaine did whatever he could to get more comfortable. Kurt patiently watched him with a humorous grin, while Blaine was completely unaware while he tried every sitting position possible, until he ended up with shrinking himself as small as possible, tucking in his knees and slouching his shoulders, almost trying to conceal himself.

"Are you done?" Kurt asked with quirked eyebrows.

Blaine flushed. "Uh, um, yeah, sorry. I'm done, yeah."

Kurt only chuckled. "You should blush more often. I don't get it myself, but it matches your shirt."

Kurt laughed as Blaine sputtered in protest. "I'm only kidding, Blaine."

Blaine nodded, and began to tap his heel almost impatiently. "No, it's fine." His face was finally dying down from its embarrassed complexion.

"Alright, jokes aside, I say we get started," Kurt offered. "Where do you want to start?"

Blaine only had to consider fore barely a nanosecond. "Grades."

"Okay," said Kurt, opening the rings of the open binder with a _snap_ and pulling out a piece of paper and closing the rings right after.

"Kelly is a wonderful student," Kurt began. "She advances in all classes, and I'm not just talking about my core classes, but in gym class, music, art, you get the gist."

"That's great," Blaine beamed, his heart swelling up with pride.

"It is," Kurt agreed. "But, in my classes, she _excels_ in all areas so far."

"Is your grading system different from the other teachers?" Blaine inquired, remembering seeing a letter grade from one of Kelly's recent tests.

"Yep. I don't like using 'one through four' or 'E' for excellent and 'S' for satisfactory and the rest of that. I think it's completely _stupid_."

Blaine's eyes grew comically as Kurt proceeded with his rant. "I prefer the easy way A's, B's, C's, et cetera. And believe it or not, but all of my students, including Kelly, understands it. Might as well use it. It makes life easier for everyone."

Blaine nodded, still slightly surprised by Kurt's response, and quite impressed how he was treating his students more maturely when he saw their full potential.

"Anyways," Kurt continued. "Kelly Anderson understands concepts with ease and even tries to help others, which is always quite amusing to watch. Her grades are outstanding: all one hundreds except a ninety-five in math."

Blaine gaped; those grades were excellent indeed and he couldn't have been more proud. And to think, this was only first grade, and Blaine was nearly in tears by Kelly's educational performance in school. Surprise couldn't also describe how he was. Kurt's teaching had exceeded his standards and advanced in giving great education to prepare not only Kelly, but also his other students set up for years to come.

"I can take you might need a second or two to process all of this, right." Kurt teased with a knowing smirk.

Blaine nodded almost dumbly and Kurt's laugh rang across the room, and something about that laugh made his heart thump a little harder against his chest.

Then something caught his eye: a glint in the light near Kurt's hand. Squinting closer, as Kurt shuffled papers and rearranged them in his binder, he noticed a silver band on his left hand ring finger.

For no reason that he could think of, Blaine felt his throat clog up, and he gulped, as he came up with the only reason for what was wrapped around his finger.

"Is that…" he rasped, and cleared his throat when he felt Kurt's eyes staring at him confusedly. "Are you...? Is that a ring?"

Kurt nodded holding out his hand for Blaine to see. "It is. It's an engagement ring. My fiancé had proposed to me a few weeks ago."

Blaine's eyes widen as big as saucers. "Wait, you're-"

Kurt eyes suddenly glared lasers right through. "I thought it was obvious. But yeah, I'm gay. You got a problem with that?" he spat, venom laced in his voice.

And now Blaine almost flinched defensively at the sudden change of tone.

"Oh, no, I have no problem, at all," Blaine stammered as Kurt continued to scowl at him, judging him. "That would be weird, 'cause I'm, you know, gay, myself."

Kurt raised his eyebrows in an arch, and his eyes soften. "You're gay too, huh? Well, what are the odds?"

"Yep, as the fourth of July."

"As the fourth of July?" Kurt repeated with a sudden frown.

Blaine waved it off. "It's just an inside joke with one of my friends."

Kurt furrowed his eyebrows even deeper, but didn't continue to interfere.

"But that's an engagement ring, right?" Blaine asked, trying to get back on subject without having the situation get awkward. "How long?"

"My fiancé and I have been together for two wonderful years," Kurt replied. "When I thought it was the right time for me to pop the question, he beat me to it! How rude, right? His face when I told him I already had a ring and was going to propose to him at any day…"

But he didn't seem to believe Kurt. Sure, it wasn't much of a surprise for them to be "in love" and then having them get engaged, it was the next step. However, the way that Kurt spoke about his fiancé, it was bleak, bland, and almost rehearsed. Blaine knew when people were in love, from both his closest friends (i.e. Sam and Quinn) and from his own personal experience. Kurt's mix of gray, sea green and sparkling blue eyes didn't sparkle, or light up, or dance in pure delight when even talking casually about his own fiancé, the supposed love of his life. His _fiancé_.

At the realization, Blaine was giddy inside, doing imaginary cartwheels and backflips, but on the outside, he wore a poker face that would make Lady Gaga proud and kept calm, to not give any suspicion to Kurt about the inner party inside his head.

Upon inner partying, Blaine had to wonder: why was he so happy about the highly unlikely possibility of Kurt not truly in love with his fiancé? What was he thinking anyways? Had he finally lost his mind?

"That's great," Blaine responded after snapping out of his reverie. "Although, I don't recall seeing you with the ring when we first met from the conference a few days ago."

Kurt shrugged. "Oh, yeah, that day Tony, my fiancé," he clarified when let the name slip, "had to take the rings to get them engraved."

Blaine nodded and wetted his dry lips. "Well, congrats. You know, on the engagement. And such." And Blaine had to internally slap himself for sounding so _awkward_ and out of place.

"Thank you," said Kurt. "I hate to admit it, but it's ten past six and yet we're still not done."

"We're not?"

"No, silly," Kurt chuckled. Blaine couldn't help but let a grin escape at the pet name. "I still have to tell you about Kelly's behavioral habits, and which I can assure you that she's a model student, in and out of the classroom."

"Oh, alright."

"Unless you want to talk again? Some other time?" Kurt offered. "Maybe send an email?"

Blaine held his hands up. "I honestly don't care. I have a very open schedule, or we can just quickly wrap this up and get back to our homes. Like I said, I don't care."

"It's quick, I can tell you that," Kurt assured. "Let's get it done right now."

Blaine nodded and leaned back as far as he dared on the _ridiculously small _kiddie chair. "Sure. Take it away."

"Right. Well, Kelly is a role model and a wonderful student, but I have to say, she seems a little lonely."

Blaine worried his bottom lip grimily as he continued.

"During recess she won't play with the other kids," Kurt informed him, nothing but sincerity in his eyes. "And in class she doesn't have partners or is left out sometimes in group activities. I do everything I can to boost her confidence, but whatever is happening in her head whatever is left is torn right out. Is everything okay? Perhaps there's any family trouble that I should be aware about? I need her to know that school is a safe place where she can be herself without any fear of harm that could possibly come to her."

The world seemed to stop rotating and freeze over as Blaine gulped. Of course Kurt would assume possible family problems. He was lucky that he didn't ask about financial issues, because Blaine's life was such a mess and sometimes he felt like it was written all over his face. His life was both situations: while working for customers' tips and barely having time to spend time with Kelly and give her attention, even on the weekends he was spending his precious two days of so called relaxation working extra shifts for more money. Kelly had probably had more time spent with Sam or Quinn than Blaine, and it always tore him to pieces.

He felt so ashamed; like he had a mask of protection ripped off his face and humiliated in front of millions of people when only in reality it was Kelly's first grade teacher who unintentionally called his bluff. His personal life had left him in the dust with practically nothing and being called out by Kurt was being punched right in the gut and the breath knocked right out of him.

Finally, when he realized Kurt was still waiting for him to respond, Blaine shifted in the chair as he tried to come up with a reasonable answer without giving him any pity or even _disgust_ of socializing with someone who was nearly living in poverty. Sure, he was taking overreacting to the extreme, but the possibilities of multiple outcomes of how this was going to end, his mind was ready to collapse on him, even at a time of need.

"I honestly don't know," he managed to utter. "At home she's a bundle of energy and has confidence and self-esteem radiating off of her. She's always bragging how awesome she is, which is true, or always boldly talks back to me when trying to get yet another Marvel shirt of the shelves of any clothing store, no matter what the gender of the shirt was supposed to be even for."

"Then I highly recommend to talk to her," Kurt suggested with a sigh. "Sort things out. Man to daughter type. And talk to your…?" He trailed off, wanting a clarification on his status.

"I'm single." Blaine told him. "I'll talk to her and her babysitters. And, can you maybe keep an eye on her? Now that I think about, can you possibly keep an eye on her? No matter how hard I try, she never really tells me anything about school except 'it was good' or 'it was fine', you know, the usual. The things that teenagers like to say instead of 'leave me alone I don't want to tell you about my day'."

Kurt chuckled, and closed the binder next to him and sliding it away. "Yes, that's true. And I will keep an eye on her. I hate for wonderful talent and a wonderful girl like her to go downhill all because she was neglected at school in first grade." His tone, despite being a joke, was stiff and repressed with no real emotion.

"Would you mind giving you my email and number? To contact me if anything's needed?" Blaine proposed.

Kurt shook his head. "That's alright. I already have all of your information."

"Okay," said Blaine. "Okay."

As Blaine stood up from the chair (his ass was so sore he was sure he wouldn't be able to walk to the Cardinal Diner the next day) Kurt balled up his fist and pounded the surface of the table twice: affirmative and final. "Meeting adjourned."

And Blaine couldn't help but throw his head back and laugh, almost too dramatically. It was the perfect way to end the meeting on a high and positive note.

The two began to clean up: stacking up remaining chairs on the desks when Kurt nearly mauled himself heaving one up, and making sure the room was ready for the next day. Much to his delight, Kurt allowed him to doodle little people on the whiteboard and puppies and kitties while Kurt sorted out his own desk. Blaine didn't want to leave, and so doodling with Expo markers on his daughter's teacher's whiteboard was the best solution he came up with. He was like a puppy himself from his miniscule drawings: energetic and happy and never wanting to leave Kurt's side.

Finally, and reluctantly, Kurt had told him that they were way late (it was fifteen minutes until seven at that point) and had to leave the school building in order to reduce the chances of running into the schools' janitors, who were awkward, kind of old, and a little creepy according to Kurt's knowledge of working alongside every staff member in the building for only a few years.

They walked out of the building, side by side, and Blaine couldn't resist giggling when Kurt would stop them when they come across an intersection of hallways and looking both ways to see if any of the janitors were around. It was so amusing because of Kurt's hilarious wittiness that had him falling to pieces over every joke he cracked.

By the time they finally arrived to the parking lot, the lot was barren with only their own cars and one or two others lingering off to the side, and much to Kurt's relief (and kind of his own) they managed to avoid the supposedly odd janitors.

Blaine didn't want to leave Kurt's side. It was like an adventure was drawing to a close and they must part ways to go forth with their own lives. It pained to leave this wonderful man behind, and who knew when they would cross paths again?

Once Blaine had turned the knob leading to his home, he was met with a dimly lit apartment, with the light source coming from the television set. Kelly was curled in a ball under a fluffy blanket, leaning against a pillow, and with Captain America hooked under her arm. She was intent on the movie in front of her: Blaine's secret love of _The Princess and the Frog_.

Blaine had expected her to leap out from her position and hug him tightly, but as he neared it turned out she was deeply asleep. With an affectionate smile he searched for the remote, and stopped the movie. He then leaned down and hoisted her slowly and gently to not startle her. She didn't jostle around as Blaine cradled her in his arms.

He laid her to bed and pulled the covers over her body, and with instinct she grabbed the covers and tugged them closer to form a cocoon around her body. Blaine began to softly stroke his daughter's dark night hair, smooth and still slightly damp from her evening shower. He placed a kiss on her forehead and shut off the bedside lamp and quietly tiptoed out of the room, without a sound.

The moment was ruined just as Blaine closed the door with a soft _click_. There was a flush, and Sam came out of the hallway bathroom, clutching a magazine in his hand. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, and jerked his thumb towards the bathroom door, which was slightly ajar.

"You do _not_ want to go in there, bro," Sam cautioned him seriously. "And hey, when did you come in?"

Blaine rolled his eyes and walked towards the kitchen. "I've been here for only a few minutes. I had to put Kelly to bed."

Sam nodded as he began to help Blaine clean up the apartment for the next day: folding the blanket, shutting off the TV, and as Sam collected his own belongings he emptied the trash and put it aside next to the door.

They settled at the table, Sam sitting across Blaine as they both sipped some coffee that Blaine decided to brew for the both of them.

"So, what happened?" Sam asked. "Like, you should've been back quite some time ago."

Blaine shrugged and twiddled his fingers. "I talked with him. K- _Mr. _Hummel, and helped him set up his class for tomorrow."

Sam only blinked in response and took a sip of his coffee.

"But like, what did the teacher say about our Kelly?" Sam urged, sliding the mug aside. "All good things, I hope."

"All good things," Blaine reassured. "I'm very proud. She sounds like she's a successful student and is a delight to have in the class, according to Kurt."

Sam cocked his head. "Wait, I'm lost. Who's Kurt?"

"The teacher. His full name is Kurt Hummel."

"Ah. As much I'd like to stay, I need to get home. Quinn is expecting me and since your conference ran behind I don't know how mad she'll be. She might beat me up with a wooden spoon." As he got up he froze. "Oh my god, she might beat me up with a wooden spoon. Bro, don't let me leave."

Blaine laughed and gently patted his shoulder in light sympathy. "There, there. I'll tell Quinn not to hurt you."

"Can you guarantee that?" Sam pleaded.

"I promise." Blaine vowed with a hand held up to hold onto his promise.

"Great, then Quinn will see you tomorrow. Thank _god_ it'll be Friday. I can't stand that little goober."

"You love her," Blaine teased, escorting Sam to the front door.

Sam sighed happily and contently. "I sure. I hope I could have a daughter or son with Quinn just as great as Kelly."

"That really means a lot, Sam, thank you," Blaine smiled, genuinely.

"Of course, man," Sam said. He lifted up his hand, his pointer and middle fingers split from the ring and pinkie fingers. "Live long and prosper. See ya later, bro."

Blaine always loved Sam's nerdy references that always brought him back to the days when they were just getting to know each other as two newfound friends, finding similarities between the two of them was one of the biggest friendship moments of their lives.

"Bye Sam." Blaine waved as Sam made his way down the hall, and closed the door when Sam was out of sight, climbing down the steps out of Catania.

After such an evening he didn't even realize that his stomach had growled angrily at him. It was time to reheat some Chicken Pot Pie and watch _The Princess and the Frog_ while dining on his meal. When his stomach roared at him like a lion, he jumped right straight to work, not wanting his stomach to begin digesting on his other internal organs.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: So in this chapter, I decided to experiment a bit, so here, this is very Kelly-centric and it introduces a new OC! I hope, readers of Being a Bothersome, would recognize his name (that is, if there is any readers from BaB, but whatever)**

**In the light of recent spoilers (to catch y'all up, there is an even bigger possibility that Klaine is broken up if you check around on tumbler (gleekto, specifically)) it really upsets me what the writers are trying to do. Now, until they ****have been denied (or god forbid confirmed) please don't go batshit crazy and not watch the show. Most likely it's some weird psycho dream sequence or something.**

**Sigh. **

**Enjoy! (and sorry for the wait)**

* * *

Sam trudged through the door and was hit immediately with the strong scent of marinara sauce and meatballs wafting into his nose. His mouth began to water as he spotted Quinn at the table, serving the steaming meatballs and spaghetti into two plates for the both of them.

When the door slammed shut Quinn looked up to see her boyfriend gaping at her (or more specifically, the food) with a drop of drool peaking out the edge of his lips.

"Hi," Quinn said, walking over to place the pot back over the stove and made her way over so she was standing right in front of her boyfriend. "Are you okay? You look like you're in shock."

Sam barely shook his head, as he took away his attention from Quinn and passed her to sit down at the kitchen table.

Quinn laughed as Sam pulled a plate over, grabbed a fork, and scarfed down an entire meatball, only to spit it out with a cry of, "Hot! Hot! _Hot_!"

Quinn could only roll her eyes in response as she made her way over to the table herself to sit across from Sam, who currently was chugging down the glass of water almost exaggeratedly.

"I see you were very hungry," she asserted, tapping her finger on her chin as she observed him.

Sam gasped, setting the glass down with a soft _thump_. "Yeah," he croaked. He rubbed his throat sheepishly. "I'm starving, and you're meatballs are the best."

She hummed, pulling her plate in front of her and began to stir, the steam sizzling out with every twist and turn of her fork. "I still think you're with me for the food," she lightly teased.

"Oh god no," Sam blurted out, eyes wide with fear and absolute terror. "I mean, yes, I love the food, don't get me wrong, the food's _amazing_, better than my mom's, and you know how great my mom cooks-"

Quinn giggled as Sam began to blush fifty shades of red in only seconds. "You're too cute," Quinn said, nudging her foot underneath the table with Sam's. "Don't worry, I know you're here for me too."

Sam exhaled, his shoulders relaxing and falling almost instantly. "Good. Okay. I'm good, then."

As Quinn continued to twirl her fork along the spaghetti, she thought of what to bring up about her day. But Sam beat her to the punch.

"How was your day?"

"Fine, thank you," Quinn replied with a smile. "My boss was sick, so it was a light day with not much workload."

"I still don't like your boss," Sam muttered.

Quinn snorted. "Oh please, you don't like any other young men who are in my life."

She laughed when she heard Sam mutter expletives under his breath as he popped a meatball in his mouth and began to chew it rather furiously.

Then, she set down her fork, and the clatter between the fork and plate got Sam's attention.

"Is somefing w'ong?" Sam asked through the meatball.

"It's just… I've been thinking."

Once Sam gulped the meatball, he twisted his fork into the spaghetti, brought it to his mouth and slurped it straight from the throngs of the fork. "'Bout what?"

Quinn sighed and lowered her gaze so she didn't meet Sam's eyes. "It's Blaine," she admitted, a little reluctantly.

Another gulp. "What do you mean? Is Blaine alright?"

"No. Yes. I don't know."

Now Sam had completely forgotten his meal as he saw Quinn's face convert from concerned to anger to nervousness in seconds. "Please, tell me what's wrong?"

She bit her lip. "We love Blaine. I love Blaine as much as you do. And I love Kelly. They're both wonderful. Kelly's like an actual daughter to me."

Sam nodded slowly, absorbing at what his girlfriend was trying to get at. "Okay, yes, but what about it? I'm confused."

With a swallow, she continued, her voice quiet and almost inaudible for Sam to hear. "I just… with the both of us taking care of Kelly everyday, we haven't had much time with each other."

There was silence as Sam took it in. "Are you-"

"Blaine needs to get a better job," she confessed, the words nearly blurring together to one. "And he needs to spend much more time with Kelly," she added. "Lately, I just feel like _we're _the ones parenting Blaine's daughter, not just babysitting. It worries me deeply, because sooner or later Kelly is going to believe that _we're_ the parents, not Blaine."

The tension snapped as Sam's expression converted from confusion to complete sympathy in a matter of seconds. He frowned, his eyebrows furrowing and crinkling as Quinn's confession of her inner thoughts began to sink in. Meanwhile, Quinn was beyond terrified that her sudden outburst might've enraged Sam. Because he and Blaine were such close friends, he might come to Blaine's defense rather than hear Quinn clarify of what she meant.

"Sam?" she asked softly, not wanting to disturb him. "Is everything okay?"

After a moment, there was a short nod. "Yeah. I'm fine."

"Do you… want to talk?" She offered, keeping her tone quiet and gentle.

"No, I see exactly what you mean." He said. He looked directly into Quinn's hazel eyes, and nearly got lost in them. "I love Blaine. He's my bro. I would do anything for him, and Kelly too. But you're right. You got a point. Blaine needs to work harder on being a part of his daughter's life. Not us."

For the rest of the evening, they at in silence, the only sounds being silverware clattering against plates, or the soft _thud_ of glasses filled with water being set occasionally on the table.

xXxXx

Kelly didn't like lunchtime. It was loud, noisy, and chaotic. When being one of the smallest first graders in the school it didn't exactly help her getting through the massive older kids.

Entering the lunchroom always was a pain. Everywhere, as she squeezed through the sea of students, she was pushed into, shoved into, and being jostled around by the older kids, who didn't really pay attention to her. They most likely didn't realize she was there, she thought to herself each and every day, and maybe they didn't realize she was being pushed around unintentionally. Luckily, she never got hurt, but when managing to get open space it was difficult to find an open seat.

She seized a chance, and she lunged forward, quickly taking a seat at a nearly empty table, with two other girls, who one of them was in her class with Mr. Hummel, and three other older boys being the other occupants.

Today, her daddy had packed her a lunch instead of the weird hamburgers that was being served in the cafeteria. Setting her tin-lunchbox on the table, she snapped the lid open and the first thing she pulled out was a note that her daddy left for her, and she grinned widely at the love radiating from the paper. She quickly stuffed the note in her sweater pocket and dug into her lunchbox. Her hands grasped a PB & J, apple slices, celery sticks (sometimes Kelly would toss those, but she decided today she would eat them), an apple juice box, and a small plastic baggie with not two, but _three_ Oreos. Her daddy knew how to make her day.

As she began to chow down on her sandwich, the lunchroom began to settle down as the students indulged themselves in their food. She glanced over to the girls at the table, who were sitting diagonal from her, talking about nail polish and a popular celebrity that she had never heard of before. Something "Grande", and Kelly was confused. Do people listen to types of coffee on the radio nowadays?

Then, she jumped nearly a foot in the air when she felt someone poke at her shoulder. Kelly spun around to come face to face with a boy: barely taller than herself, with large black-rimmed glasses, and sandy blonde hair that was disheveled, like it hadn't been combed or brushed in weeks. He wore a bright green button up shirt, just like the type that Uncle Sam wore when he came back from work, and a purple vest with a yellow zigzag stripe across the front that reminded Kelly of a lightning strike.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" the boy asked. "Everywhere else is full."

Biting her lip hesitantly, she nodded, and the boy grinned, showing his teeth, which had at least two holes gaping through.

She watched him as he sat down with his lunch on a plastic tray that was bought from the school's cafeteria: lettuce leaves with a strange sauce poured on top, an apple, and a water bottle.

"What type of lunch is that?" was the first thing Kelly asked, crinkling her nose as the boy grabbed a spork and scooped a bunch of lettuce leaves in his mouth, his teeth crunching them enthusiastically.

The boy shrugged and took another bite, and Kelly winced. "It's my lunch. My mom told me I had to buy a salad today. Tomorrow it'll be a kitchen sandwich."

Kelly frowned. "Do you mean a 'chicken' sandwich?"

"Isn't that what I said?" the boy asked. He set aside his spork and grabbed the apple and took a bite, loud and almost obnoxious.

She shook her head. This kid was a mess.

"Anyways," the boy mumbled through the apple, nearly spitting the juices in Kelly's face. "I thank you for letting me sit beside you. What's your name? I've seen you at recess. You sit by yourself sometimes."

"I'm Kelly," she replied. "And you see me at recess?"

"I'm in the same grade as you," said the boy. He pushed the glasses up higher of the bridge of his nose. "You're in Mr. Hummel's class, if I'm not correct. I'm in Mrs. Lang's class."

Kelly shifted a little further away in her seat. His presence was starting to make her a little uncomfortable. She wished she brought Captain America with her to give her some ease, but she left the action figure at home, sitting on top of her pillow on her bed. Her thoughts began to run wild like zebras in her head. Had this boy been following… or perhaps _stalking _her?

She then noticed that the boy was holding out his hand, presumably for her to shake. "I'm Mason. It's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance." He smiled, friendly and accepting.

Kelly didn't want to shake his hand. Who knew what he had done with that hand? And she couldn't help but wonder what the words he was saying meant. First, he got confused with "chicken" and "kitchen" and now he was saying complete gibberish? It didn't make any sense.

The boy, whose smile faltered as the seconds ticked by like minutes, slowly lowered his hand. "I see. I intimidate you. Have I frightened you? Sometimes I do that to people with my advanced and more sophisticated vocabulary."

The boy, Mason was getting stranger and stranger by the minute. Kelly had forgotten about her PB & J, which rested on her sandwich container. It must've been shown through her facial expressions, for Mason had turned away from her and continued to dine on his peculiar meal.

For a moment, she stared at him in shock. After a few moments when the boy didn't acknowledge her existence, she turned back to her PB & J and began to eat. They sat in silence, and it was the fastest time that she finished her sandwich. She was munching her apple slices and celery sticks in between when she noticed Mason suddenly stand up, grabbing his empty plastic tray.

"It was a delight to dine with you, Kelly," he announced.

Kelly was confused. "Why are you leaving?"

"I want to complete my homework. I'm departing ways with you to go to the library."

Without another word, he walked off, Kelly watching him go towards the exit, where a row of trashcans was placed. She noticed while he stood tall and proud like a giant (despite his size), he was walking funny. He supported his weight on his left leg instead of walking like a normal person. Kelly continued to watch with interest as he passed a table filled with taller and much older boys, who began to yell at him, jeering what seemed to be insults at his way. She observed how Mason ignored their teasing and mean smiles, dumping his empty tray in a trashcan, and made his way out of the cafeteria, not looking back.

For certain, after lunchtime and for the rest of the day, Kelly couldn't get Mason out of her head.

When she got home from school later that day, the rest of her afternoon was a routine: grabbing a snack and going straight to her room to do her homework. Usually, Mr. Hummel gave out a fair amount of homework, in her opinion. The other kids, meanwhile, complain privately that Mr. Hummel was unfair and gave out _too_ much homework. Sometimes they would complain about how Mr. Hummel taught too. With every word of hatred that replayed in Kelly's head fumed her dislike to her fellow peers.

Kelly worked on a math sheet of subtracting double digits (and there was even a bonus problem with triple digits, and she completed that problem the second she saw it). Afterwards, she lied on her bed and continued to read the Harry Potter book. Nearly every night, she begged her daddy to read it aloud to her, which her daddy complied to do so. Her daddy was the unarguable the best reader in the world; he made each sentence exciting when there was nothing to be excited about and he even did voices to play as each character. She always giggled when he attempted to include accents, but gave up when she couldn't stop laughing.

She didn't read for too long. She didn't get too far either. It was a challenging book and took every ounce of her brain to comprehend each sentence read.

When turning to the next page, she gave up closing the paperback book and setting it back on her bedside table. She slid off her bed and trudged out of her room.

The smell of mac n' cheese filled her nose and she couldn't help but breath a sigh of relief. Uncle Sam knew how to make the most wonderful mac n' cheese and it wasn't too often he did it. He always claimed how unhealthy it was (for him and not Kelly; he always helped himself to mac n' cheese as well).

"Perfect timing!" Uncle Sam said from the oven. "Dinner's practically ready. Can you go wash up?"

"Yeah," Kelly said, skipping to the sink and dosing her hands with soap and turned on the faucet. From the running water, she didn't hear the sound of the door being unlocked.

"Kelly Cake!"

She whipped around and her she beamed, radiate as the sun.

"Daddy!" She cried out, her grinning growing to the point where her cheeks were hurting.

Suddenly she squealed as she felt her daddy's warm and comforting hands hoist her high in the air and began to twirl her high in the air.

"Be careful I have wet hands," she gasped, out of breath. Who knew being twirled in the air like a princess can be so tiring?

Her daddy had her resting on his hip. "Don't worry, I'm not afraid of wet hands."

Kelly's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Would you be afraid if I wiped them on your shirt?"

Blaine laughed as Kelly led up to her promise, smearing her dripping hands all over his shirt, splotches of water covering all over his shirt.

"Aw, Kelly, why did you have to do that?" Her daddy scolded playfully, and she giggled.

Calming down, they settle at the table under her Uncle Sam's orders. Once served, they dug in, but Kelly immediately noticed that her Uncle Sam was grabbing his sweater hanging off of the sofa arm.

"Where are you going?" Kelly asked, spooning another spoonful of mac n' cheese in her mouth. Why did have to go? Wouldn't he prefer eating dinner with her and her daddy?

"I'm leaving," Uncle Sam said. "That way you can spend time with your dad. You haven't seen him all day."

She sighed, swallowing the cheesy noodles. "Alright."

She heard the door open. "Bye, guys!"

Simultaneously, Kelly and her daddy waved goodbye at Uncle Sam as he closed the door behind him, the sound echoing around the apartment.

"So, Kelly," her daddy said, "how was school?"

She shrugged. "It was okay. Some weirdo sat next to me."

Her daddy looked at her curiously. "What weirdo?"

"I dunno. He was weird, I guess. Glasses, weird clothing, and he spoke weird."

Her daddy hummed. "He spoke weird, huh?"

"Yeah. It was strange also because he was the first kid to sit next to me at lunch."

At that, her daddy frowned, almost approvingly with the fact. He bit his lop, staring distractedly at the table. Kelly remained silent, waiting patiently for her daddy to answer.

"So he's the first kid to sit with you at lunch?" he repeated. "Am I getting that right?"

"Uh huh. Oh, and when I mean he spoke weird, he said a bunch words I didn't know."

"Alien language?" Her daddy suggested with a playful quirk of his eyebrow, and his face looked funny, and Kelly burst out laughing.

"No, like a bunch of hard words I didn't know," she said. "I didn't know what they meant, so I didn't know what he said half the time."

"But was he nice?"

"Sure." Kelly conceded.

Her daddy nodded his head. "But aren't you sitting at lunch with friends from you class?"

With that, Kelly sunk into her chair, not wanting to meet her father's eyes. "No," was all she could mutter.

The tone that her daddy responded with was not what she expected. "Sweetheart, do you have friends at school?"

A brief silence.

It all came crashing down with two words: "I don't."

Immediately she heard her daddy stand up from her chair and crossing over to her side. She was enveloped in a hug, nearly bone-crushing.

She cracked. As her father squeezed tighter, she felt the tears welling up her eyes and blurring her vision. With no hesitation, she let the tears fall.


	6. Chapter 6

As Blaine clutched Kelly tighter in his arms, he heard the soft sounds of sobbing and quiet whimpering. He pulled back, and his heart broke at the sight of his daughter, red faced and tear-stained, splashes of tears still falling down her face.

Instantly, he hugged her even tighter, praying that in the process he didn't squeeze her to death. Doing so, thousands of thoughts raced through his head at once, suddenly making him dizzy. How could this have happened? Mentally punching himself in the face numerous times couldn't even describe how to lecture himself on _why didn't you see this sooner?_

It was only the two of them, Kelly's nearly inaudible crying winding down to soft whimpers to the occasional sniffle and finally to hiccupping every few seconds. Together, they held each other in silence, Blaine soothingly rubbing her back to nullify her melancholy mood. He could feel his shoulder damp with her tears, but it didn't matter to him. What mattered to him the most was his deep concern for Kelly.

The one to pull away was Kelly. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, honey," Blaine sympathized. He looked at her directly in her eyes, trying to convey a nearly silent plea for her to understand. "You have _nothing_ at all to be sorry about."

"No, it's not that," Kelly said quietly. "I'm sorry for not telling you what was happening."

Blaine bit his lip. "It's okay. You don't have to be sorry for anything."

"Sometimes it's hard to go to school," Kelly told him, adding him a sniffle and rubbing her nose with the back of her hand. "I don't have anyone to talk, or to or sit with at lunch except Mason. But I don't know him too good so I don't know if I can consider him as a friend."

Blaine nodded. Sometimes it was hard to find people to talk to and hang out with, but he didn't really expect it in first grade when everyone was friends with each other, especially even at his own years in first through fourth grade in elementary school.

He never even anticipated the possibility of Kelly's friendship troubles. Her home life was different, sure, but she was such a great individual: always bright, happy, bubbly even, and incredibly friendly to anyone she crossed paths with. He loved her, so did Sam and Quinn, and so did his coworkers at the Cardinal Diner who adored her to death whenever he brought her to work sometimes during the weekends.

It was like the cartoon light bulb flashing over his head. It was the perfect activity to do and to spend some quality father-daughter time and to also have Kelly be around people who will love her for the girl she was.

Kelly seemed to notice the dazed, exultant look on her father's face. "Daddy? What is it?"

He turned to her, and grabbed her hands. "How about we both go to the Diner on Saturday and have some fun?"

"Will I be able to spend some time with Stacy?" Kelly replied, frowning.

"Of course," Blaine said with a wide grin. "What do you think?"

It only took a few moments for her to consider. "Yeah. Let's do it!"

"Then it's a deal."  
"As long as I get to have a chocolate brownie sundae." She added with a cheeky smirk.

Blaine gaped, completely affronted. "What? You can't do that! That's unfair."

"It's fair," she stated, crossing her arms. "Otherwise, I won't go."

He had to admit that her negotiating skills had improved over the past few weeks. "Alright, fine," Blaine gave in, trying but failing to hide a smile. It broke anyways when Kelly cheered, delightful and happy, and lunged into Blaine's arms, nearly knocking him over to the floor. He remained upfront, but he hugged his daughter like no other parent could.

He just had to make it through Friday, and then on Saturday he could spend time with Kelly. Inside, he was teetering, desperately trying to show his happiness that was spewed upon his daughter's own happiness. Now, he couldn't wait for the weekend.

xXxXx

Thank God it was Friday. That was the catchphrase that ran through Kurt's head throughout the morning, from the time he got up to when all of his students entered the classroom right on the dot, talking amongst themselves, exuberant that they just had to survive the day until the weekend arrived.

It was a relief that the agenda was fun, simple and interactive to keep the first graders up to speed with their (sometimes) short attention span.

Time always flew when having fun. The morning had disappeared and already it was Kurt to head down to the lunchroom along with the other students to take a shift of "teacher duty" as the principal liked to name it.

It was almost like someone flipped a switch in his brain and he suddenly found himself remembering the words of one Blaine Anderson.

_Can you maybe keep an eye on her?_

Instantly, Kurt frantically began to search throughout the busy lunchroom in hopes of finding Kelly. Who knew? Maybe if she were sitting alone (he couldn't even imagine such an amazing girl sitting by herself) he would make himself helpful and go sit with her.

But he didn't need to. He finally found Kelly Anderson further in the back at a table with a few other girls, except she wasn't talking with them. Instead, she sat next to what seemed to be a boy that Kurt didn't recognize from the behind. Curiously, he abandoned his post of "teacher duty" and surged forward, eyes kept directly at Kelly and the boy like a magnet.

Much to his intense relief, as he neared, it seemed that the two were acquaintances, or friends, being the more proper term in the context of the situation. Kelly was talking to him, Kurt could see her mouth moving, while the boy next to her was paying good attention like most kids do in class when something interesting was being said by their teacher.

And now that Kurt could see the boy's profile, his mind clicked with the memory of talking to one of the teacher's in the teacher's office not too long ago. Apparently, this boy was _extremely_ smart and said teacher was considering to have him skip first grade, or possibly go through the rest of the year, then have him skip _second _grade and move straight into third.

"Mr. Hummel! Hi!"  
He didn't even realize that he was standing only a few feet away from Kelly and her friend. Kelly had to call him out.

"Hey Kelly," Kurt replied smoothly, stepping closer.

"Hello, Mr. Hummel," the boy said just as Kelly opened her mouth to speak. "I'm Mason. I'm in Miss Lang's class, I'm sure you have a familiarity with her. I've also heard quite high standards of you and your teaching methods. I plan to become a teacher at a top university myself."

_Forget about skipping second grade,_ Kurt thought to himself, completely taken aback by the young boy's intelligent response. _This kid needed to get himself to middle school._

"That sounds great," he said, and couldn't help but chuckle at Kelly's eye roll. "Do you which university you want to teach."

The boy grinned. "Of course. Either Harvard or Yale. Possibly Ohio State since my mother is an ecstatic Buckeyes fan."

Once again, Kurt couldn't believe the boy's knowledge of more mature subjects as so. "That's great to hear. What about you, Kelly? It's never too early to start thinking about your future, huh?"

Kelly frowned. "I dunno. I haven't thought about it."

"That's okay," Kurt said with a casual wave of his hand. "You'll do whatever you want, as long as you believe in yourself."

"Of course, Mr. Hummel," Mason said, adjusting his glasses. "Wise words."

"Now, I'll let you to be," Kurt said, taking a quick glance at the clock hanging above the kitchen of the cafeteria. "I have to get going. I'll see you in a few minutes, Kelly. And it was nice meeting you, Mason."

"Bye, Mr. Hummel," Kelly said. And she turned right back to Mason as if her teacher wasn't there. "Does your teacher give out candy to kids if they do good on tests? Mr. Hummel sometimes does. I get lots of candy."

With a quiet smile hidden to himself at the remark from Kelly to her friend, he was off on his way, with a slightly more positive bounce in his step. Kelly was going to be okay, and he knew it.

xXxXx

Kurt hated routine. Which was why today when arriving at his apartment he didn't yell to Tony to notify him of his presence.

Once he had slipped off his shoes, he was glad he did. There was no Miss Abby Lee blaring from the television, or any crushed Mountain Dew cans littering the apartment like a landfill.

A quick check around the entire area gave him confirmation: Tony was gone.

Kurt sighed, shoulders falling. His only guess to his fiancé's whereabouts was that he was still at work, although it was Friday so it was unusual to be still working so late on this type of day.

Nonetheless, Kurt trudged to the couch and collapsed, back slouching against the cushions and legs sprawled out carelessly. As delightful as being a teacher, first-graders take up a lot of energy that always left him exhausted upon coming home.

He found the remote and switched on the television set, the channel already set on the local news. As the anchorman droned on in a near monotone, Kurt got himself out of the couch and headed to the kitchen to get some microwavable lasagna from the freezer.

It was only a few minutes before he was already sitting himself at the table, with the news off, and the apartment quiet and bare with only himself to occupy the noise and space. He took his time with his dinner and cleaning up and by the time he had sat himself back on the couch with the Netflix home screen on the TV, it was nearly nine; the sun had already left and the moon entering the skies.

Still, as Kurt watched a rerun episode of _The Big Bang Theory_, he couldn't help but strain his neck to the oven clock behind time, shaking his head and sighing as the minutes ticked by from minutes to hours with no signs of Tony returning. He had checked his phone numerous times for any texts or missed calls from him, but still, there was nothing.

The next morning, Kurt awoke to the sun naturally peeking out of the window and landing on his face. Blinking, he pried his eyes open and the first thing he did was roll over to Tony's side of the bed, hoping to bump right into his arms. Instead, he nearly fell off the bed.

Biting his lip worriedly, Kurt forced himself out of bed and went to get his phone, which was charging on the island countertop in the kitchen.

Once again, no missed calls or texts from Tony.

After sending off yet another pleading text, Kurt stormed back into the bedroom, one part of him fuming with absolute anger while the other part was pacing frantically back and forth. He went for his closet and yanked a polo shirt and jeans and tossed them on the bed, and ducked down to grab a pair of Vans that Tony had gotten for him as a birthday, but never worn them since Kurt couldn't stand the shoe brand.

Within minutes he was already out the door, wallet and phone in their respective pockets. The sudden absence of Tony lingering in the apartment mentally forced Kurt out. He couldn't just stay in there, cooped up, still worrying about where in the hell Tony could be, he had to do _something_. And after a good, unhealthy, sugary breakfast he would go out and figure out where Tony could possibly be.

He reached the Cardinal Diner in record time, the tiny restaurant surprisingly full with waiters and waitresses running around trying to serve their customers in a respectful manner.

Luck was on his side, and there was only a five minute wait before Kurt was placed in a two-person booth in the back corner of the diner, with his waiter coming over shortly to take his order.

"Mr. Hummel!"

The excited greeting had Kurt jumping a foot in the air from his seat when he recognized the cheerful voice of one Kelly Anderson.

"K-Kelly?" Kurt stuttered, eyes wide rather comically in disbelief as his student approached him, wearing an apron and a tag on her purple Hello Kitty shirt that read her name.

"Hi, Mr. Hummel!" Kelly repeated, swaying on her feet. "I'm working here with my daddy, and I'm going to be taking your order! Only the drink though, 'cause daddy doesn't trust me with handling other people's breakfasts yet."

Still in shock, Kurt nodded, both in absolute incredulity and astonishment. "O-of course! I'll have a glass of orange juice please."

Kelly grinned. "Okay! Your waiter will come shortly to actually take your order and bring you your drink. See ya later!" She skipped off with finality, leaving Kurt with swarming questions in his head.

Who in the hell would bring a six year old to a busy diner? And to even have her _work_ too?

But then he remembered what she said.

_I'm working here with my daddy, and I'm going to take your order!_

Kelly Anderson's father _worked_ at this diner?

The sudden realization then hit him hard in the gut. Blaine Anderson worked in a diner.

"Here is your orange juice sir, and I apologize for the…"

Blaine Anderson trailed off when his eyes locked with Kurt's, the world suddenly stopping short in front of them.

* * *

**Welp. I apologize FOR NOT UPDATING IN AN ENTIRE MONTH. Life has been hectic, little inspiration, frustration and anger over Glee, etc.**

**If you want to contribute to the story, leave any suggestions I can weave into the next chapter!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Yay! Another new chapter, I totally got this.**

**Great news! Guess what? I have a beta so the quality of the story is going to be _so _better. Thanks for the ever so amazing ! Go check her stuff out, she's a totally awesome writer as well! That is if I'm a good one lol**

**Otherwise, enjoy! Especially towards the end, if ya know what I mean ;P**

* * *

Blaine had almost dropped the nearly full glass of orange juice from his hands. Kurt Hummel, the man who had given him a flashlight to hold in the dark. Kurt Hummel, the man who had been acting as one of the greatest caretakers of his daughter, who has been keeping an eye on her when he couldn't.

Now that their paths had crossed once again, Blaine had never felt so embarrassed, humiliated, and _vulnerable_, like he was standing in front of Kurt Hummel _naked_.

"I-I-I…" was all Blaine could stutter. He licked his lips and cleared his throat, as it had suddenly gotten extremely dry.

"Hi, Blaine," Kurt said, the first to get over the shock. Blaine analyzed his face: normalcy, kind, and nonjudgmental. "Haven't seen you in a while, how've you been?"

Blaine gulped. "Okay," he managed to croak. "H-How about you?"

"Fine, thank you," Kurt replied with a shrug. "Although I could go for some orange juice right now, the one in your hands looks mighty delicious."

"Oh, yes, of course," Blaine said, collectively in one breath. He set down the orange juice on the table in front of Kurt. Despite his request, Kurt didn't go for the orange juice quite yet.

"So. This is where you work, huh?"

Blaine could feel his face burning up, ears blushing and cheeks as ripe as tomatoes. He never wanted to run out of a public place nearly in tears in all of his life. "Yeah. I've been working here for quite some time now."

Kurt nodded, and was about to open his mouth to somehow continue the awkward conversation (and Blaine was absolutely _sure_ Kurt was going to laugh at his face) when Kurt instead jumped in the air at the voice behind him.

"Anderson!"

Blaine flinched at the harshness of his boss's sergeant-like tone coming from behind.

"Get back to work, you lazy moron," his boss barked.

Blaine also had never felt like he could strangle Charlie, his boss, more than ever before for simply interrupting a conversation with someone that he didn't want to stop talking to.

With a curt nod, he fled before Kurt could say another word of protest, and went over to the next set of customers, who were fortunately weren't upset by the wait. He was gone from the teacher's presence for only a few minutes, but to Blaine it had felt like an eternity. Being away from Kurt Hummel though gave him some good; he was no longer afraid of the man possibly mentally hurting him in public, especially with the circumstances that he might not be taking good care of his daughter despite doing the best he could.

After serving a few more tables (with sneaking glances back at the teacher, who was still nose-deep in the menu), he mentally braced himself as he made his way over to Kurt, pen and pad ready in hand.

"Are you ready to order?" Blaine asked as he approached Kurt.

It took a second before Kurt looked up again from the menu. "Um, sort of? I just can't decide."

"Simple," Blaine said, still maintaining a professional attitude towards this ever so wonderful customer. "It depends what your diet is."

Kurt laughed, a musical laugh that was complete with his head thrown back almost exaggeratedly, and Blaine couldn't help but let out a quiet laugh to himself also; the joke wasn't even that funny, but with Kurt everything seemed to be more fun then it really should be.

"Well," Kurt grinned, "I _am_ trying to keep a steady figure going on here, so I want something sugary to treat myself but also I want something healthy. I cannot let my diet slip up because of a bad breakfast."

Blaine nodded and moved closer to take a better look at the menu. But he soon found it difficult to speak when his shoulder was brushing against Kurt's, and the smell of cologne, not too strong or too weak, broke in and entered his nose. "Let's see then… I highly recommend the Belgian waffles," Blaine advised after pulling himself together. He tapped the picture on the menu with his finger, "with no whipped cream, of course, and a side of two bacon strips and a small cup of fruit."

He exhaled, backed away, and waited as Kurt considered his suggestion, pad ready and pen wielded in his hand.

"What the hell," Kurt finally spoke with a shrug. "I'll take it."

Blaine couldn't help but let the grin escape as he jotted down the order. "Brilliant, trust me, you're going to _love _it!" Sliding the pad back in his apron, he grabbed the menu from the table. "I'll be back with your meal soon."

He then made his getaway, but he was able to catch Kurt's shout of gratitude, which he turned his head back to shout, "you're welcome," back before making his way to the kitchen.

Meanwhile, Kurt's eyes had been following Blaine the second he left, even searching for him when he nearly got lost in the sea of people. He got lost in the thoughts of Blaine and Kelly and how their lives were compared to other students. He couldn't help but feel a strong sense of sympathy and more confusion that wrapped around his head than anything else. How could Kelly Anderson live in such an environment? If he recalled at the teacher's conference that Blaine was single. Back then he didn't know that Blaine was working for barely minimum wage at a diner as a waiter. It was hard for Kurt to even live on his own with his salary as a teacher, but it was only easier because of Tony. How can they live in such conditions?

Kurt snapped back into reality when his eye caught Blaine walking in his direction, platter in his one hand filled with food.

He could feel his mouth water as Blaine approached; he could smell the syrup and the bacon enter his nose and he resisted the urge to inhale the scent even deeper.

As Blaine stood right in front of Kurt's table, he began to place each plate on the table, but instead Kurt awkwardly accepted them only to place it down on the table himself. "Will there be anything else?" Blaine asked when they we're finished.

Kurt simply gawked at the food in front of him. "No, not at all," he murmured unconsciously.

Blaine grinned. "Awesome! I'll come back later to check on you or bring you the bill. Otherwise, enjoy!"

Kurt did, in fact, enjoyed one of the greatest meals he have had ever since visiting his own parents and having them cook the meals for him instead of getting take-out nearly every other day.

When he finished and paid the bill, it was already nearly half past nine and he had a job to do: find wherever the hell Tony went and give him the biggest bitch lectures about the importance of notifying Kurt when he would get worried over his whereabouts for hours at a time.

Just as he was about to push the doors open to get out, he felt someone tugging on his shirt, and jumped when that someone hugged his legs tightly, not wanting to let go.

His heart nearly melted when he recognized Kelly was the one trapping him from leaving.

"Thank you for making my daddy happy today," was all she muttered on Kurt's pants.

He froze. "I-I… you're welcome, Kelly."

She then looked up at him, with big, innocent eyes. "Can you come back soon? Daddy was _so _happy that you came. He even was dancing in the kitchen after serving you."

That was when Kurt's heart stopped operating and his brain shut down completely.

He cleared his throat and prepared a reasonable answer to make his student happy. "I'll t-try to visit your father every so often," Kurt told her. "Remember, I'm busy too, and so is your dad."

The response lit up the girl's face like a Christmas tree. "Yay! Thank you so much!" With a final squeeze of his legs, she scurried off with an extra spring in her step.

It took him a moment to recover from the incident when he stepped outside of the diner. He had to lean against a lamppost, catching his breath as if he ran a marathon. Never in his life, he has never been so confused as to why he was feeling this way. These emotions were strong and powerful and could easily destroy his life when he built it already to something that resembled _perfection_.

Instead, he set those feelings behind, and went off back to Catania to fetch his car so he could begin his hunt for Tony.

The first place he began with was his office: Columbus Dental Associations. Fortunately he had taken the chance to visit them several times and registered himself as a patient, where he got discounts because of his insurance and the fact that his fiancé worked there.

Upon entering, the waiting room was _packed_ with whining children and mothers leaving them unattended only to gossip with other mothers who were doing the same. He groaned when he saw the line for checking in, but nonetheless side stepped toddlers waddling around with messy mouths and diaper bags scattered around the floor.

Kurt finally stepped up to the secretary, an older woman with reading glasses and a high bun to hold her head up in place, after waiting nearly ten minutes in line.

"Excuse me, do know Tony Grenville? He works here as one of the dentists."

The woman, who was scowling before, smiled. "Oh yes, of course! Tony is a wonderful man."

"You see, he's my fiancé," Kurt explained, very relieved that already he was on the verge of a breakthrough. "And last night he didn't return home. I've called and texted him several times in the past several hours but there hasn't been any response. Do you happen to know where he could be? Any mentions of what he was going to do after leaving work?"

The secretary frowned and began tapping her chin with her finger. "I think…" she hummed, and tilted her head sideways as if she was thinking of what to say that could appease Kurt's question. Then, she snapped her fingers. "Ah, yes! He was talking to Hannah about going to the local bar to meet up with someone, according to Wendy and Tricia."

Kurt ignored the names of the secretary's coworkers as the gears in his brain began to turn. Why a bar, of all places? What was Tony up to? "Do you know the name of the bar, by any chance?"

The secretary shrugged. "I only know two that he could be thinking of: one is on Petunia Avenue and the other is on the intersection of Rockville and Lowell. Try those places."

"Okay, thank you so much for the help."

"No problem, sweetheart. Good luck with the wedding."

_The wedding_. Those words haven't been spoken much between the two of them lately. Maybe when this was all over their next focus could be on that.

"Thank you," Kurt replied on his way out.

His next destination was the first bar on Petunia Avenue. He didn't even bother looking at the name as he stepped inside the starting place of his wild goose chase.

The bar wasn't much: it was small yet tiny and homey with only a few patrons residing at the bar table itself.

Almost cautiously, he approached one of the stools and graced himself on it, wincing at the thought of drunkards getting wasted on these stools.

A mixer approached him. "What can I get for ya?"

Kurt crinkled his nose at the strange southern accent. "Um, do you happen to know if a Tony Grenville stopped by last night?"

The man snorted. "You're asking me if I gave this Tony dude a couple of shots last night? L-O-L!" Then he started to burst out laughing, his beer belly quaking with every breath.

"Do you know if Tony Grenville paid for any drinks last night?" he repeated, growling at each word.

The man behind the bar stopped laughing and stared at Kurt. "I'll go check the records for you," and scurried away.

But there was no need anymore. Behind him, the door burst open and hit the wall with a _bang_ that shook the tavern. Kurt gasped and nearly fell off his stool.

Tony Grenville, _Kurt's Tony Grenville_, stumbled in, movements uncoordinated, with the weirdest smile set on his face.

"_It feels like the first time! It feels like the very first time! It feels like the first time!"_

Kurt didn't even bother to let his mouth gawk open like a fish. This was his fiancé. His _fiancé_. This couldn't be Tony, but yet he was.

Tony stumbled and nearly crashed into a table. "Whoops, my bad," he apologized to the couple at the table, who glared at him. Despite the looks and the sudden silence that wrapped the entire bar, Tony had a blissed smile across his face.

"_My Anaconda don't! My Anaconda don't! My Anaconda_- oh, hello, sweet cheeks."

Kurt had jumped up from his seat the second Tony began to sing the obnoxious Nicki Minaj song and nearly had to tackle Tony to the ground to get his attention. From there, Kurt had to drag him out of the bar with everyone _staring _at him while Tony continued to sing, loud and off-key.

The drive back home was _not _going to be pleasing.

xXxXx

After that exhausting day at the diner (although Kurt being there in the morning did improve it just slightly) Blaine's own six-year-old daughter had to drag him home since she was the one with the most energy out of the two of them.

The second Kelly was tucked in bed, after watching _Aladdin _for the hundredth time, he stumbled to his bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, sleep overcoming him in the matter of seconds.

Suddenly, Blaine found himself standing in an unfamiliar, tight space that barely gave him any room to even move a step in any direction. His eyes take a moment to adjust to the darkness; the only light seeping in was from the slit of the door on the floor. His hand groped for the knob, only to find that there wasn't even a knob to wrap his hand around.

He stumbled over something and crashed into the wall, and the sudden force from the wall had unidentified objects falling form above. Gasping, he shielded himself, throwing his arms over his head, and letting them fall until no more fell.

Just like that, claustrophobia sunk in as Blaine soon became short of breath, his heart nearly thumping out of his chest like a jackhammer. His eyes frantically searched around the room for _anything _to break down the door.

Carefully, he sunk down to his knees and let his hands search for anything to bust through that damned door with. The first thing he picked up was squishy and damp. Blaine squinted, and he realized it was only a sponge and not something else that could be squishy and damp. He frowned, setting the sponge on the floor next to his feet, and picked up the next object. He could feel the coarse, thin material when he glazed his fingertips all around. Not much to his surprise, it was a half-used roll of paper towels, judging by the weight.

Blaine could feel his knees starting to give in, so he proceeded to hoist himself back up to his feet using the support of the wall.

He jumped, nearly falling back to the ground again when he heard heavy footsteps coming from the outside. His heart nearly stopped when he could see the feet of an _actual person_ right outside the door.

But he didn't move, frozen in place like a statue, leaning against the wall. He couldn't bring himself to get to the door and call for help, or pound his fists on the door, but he was glued to the spot, with no intentions of moving an inch.

Blaine's heart lurched when that _somebody_ from the outside jiggled a doorknob that existed only from the outside.

Then he was blinded by a blast of sudden light, only for it to be dark once again. His head and body were screaming at each other, confused as to what just happened.

"Hello there."

Blaine squeaked at the sudden voice and planted himself further into the wall as if it would suck him right in. When his vision was temporarily impaired, he didn't register then the sharp, piercing swirl of blue and green orbs staring right into his own.

"W-Who…" Blaine managed to stutter, continuing to further press himself as far away from the stranger as possible.

The stranger scoffed and rolled their eyes. "Oh, please, _Mr. Anderson_," Blaine sucked in a deep breath as the stranger (he didn't know anymore; he could barely hear them over the sound of his heart pumping in his ears) pressed their body against his own. Then, Blaine could feel their lips right against his ear. "_You know exactly who I am_."

The voice was immediately registered in his brain and Blaine gasped as Kurt Hummel began to press his lips right to the lobe of his ear, kissing it sweetly, causing Blaine's breathing to heighten as his senses unfolded.

Then Kurt's lips were brushing right onto his own, so far but so close. "You ready to have the time of your life in the janitor's closet?" He murmured, suddenly colliding their lips together with force that Blaine couldn't imagine that Kurt would even have.

That was when his eyes flew open, and he shot up from his bed, body practically dripping in sweat, only to find he wasn't locked in a janitor's closet with Kurt Hummel, but in the safety net of his own bedroom.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Wow. This chapter was a doozy to write. And of course, without to help with all of my stupid mistakes, this chapter wouldn't be as great as it would be. So thank you so much!**

**Also, I can't thank you wonderful readers enough for all of the reviews. I hope you all enjoy :)**

* * *

By the time Kurt had dragged Tony up to their apartment, his fiancé had fallen into a deep sleep, breathing deeply and even snoring, which was something Tony Grenville never had a problem with before. That was, until now.

Once Tony was laid on their bed, tucked under the blankets and wrapped like a cocoon, Kurt left, shutting the bedroom door behind him, only to sink to the floor, leaning his entire body against the door. Thoughts swirled his head, making him feel dizzy with a combination of nausea and dread of what would come as soon as Tony woke up.

His vision was blurred with tears as his life was starting to come crashing down on him like a massive tidal wave with enough force to destroy a city. What was he even going to do? There weren't a lot of options. The fact that Tony was the one paying the bills with his salary while Kurt paid for other needs such as groceries and supplies made his situation more difficult by the second he thought about it. The rent at this building was steadily growing with each month that passed, and if he needed to move out, he wouldn't be able to pay for anything and survive on his own with his salary working as an elementary school teacher.

He took a few shaky breaths to attempt to calm himself down before he could start hyperventilating and letting his tears escape when he was desperately trying to keep them at bay. He chuckled darkly at his thoughts. Maybe he was just overreacting and it was all a big misunderstanding, and he could go back to his normal life with the man he loved. He hasn't heard of Tony's side of the story so once he awoke, everything would be answered.

_The man he loved_. Now, it felt like he didn't know this man anymore. Upon getting Tony home, he was able to observe several characteristics that he took on that he _never_ had before. He thought back to when he was driving Tony home with him in the car for only fifteen minutes, but it seemed like an eternity had passed.

_"Kurt, I'm hungry," Tony whined, pawing at Kurt's shoulder. "I want cake. Can we go to the Cheesecake Factory? 'Cause they have cake, I bet they have _lots_ of cake."_

_ "Of course they do," Kurt said in a monotone, rolling his eyes and still paying attention to the road and traffic in front of him._

_ "I bet they also have lots of cheesecake," Tony continued. "Get it? Because they're the _Cheesecake Factory_! Get it?" Then he burst out in high-pitched laughter, the sound reminiscent of an unbelievably loud gerbil. Kurt flinched, shrinking himself further away from him. _

_ "Hey Kurt!" Tony shouted._

_ "Honey, please keep your voice down," Kurt told him slowly, not wanting to have Tony loose control._

_ Tony simply winked, leaning forward to have his mouth right against Kurt's ear. "Of course, my princess," he whispered._

Everything was so _odd_. Tony never acted like that, even when he was drunk. Kurt had only seen him drunk once: it was a date when they had first became a couple. Tony wanted to relax and spend time with him, so he brought him to a bar, more fancy and bigger just outside of Columbus. Kurt, naturally, had a terrible time, but for the sake of Tony's stress at that time, he was sympathetic and pretended to enjoy himself. It wasn't too hard either; Tony was too drunk to even take a hint at Kurt's sarcasm. When Tony was drunk, he was lopsided and extremely flirty, just like now before he passed out. But, he also had a sense of personal space and was cautious of keeping the noise level in his voice down to a minimum when he was drunk and never called him "princess." So what was this then? Nothing was making any sense.

Through the door, Kurt could still hear the soft sounds of Tony's content snoring coming through. He finally hoisted himself up, gasping when he nearly fell over, realizing that his legs had fallen asleep; he had been sitting awkwardly on the floor for several long minutes.

He lumbered over to the couch, where he collapsed on it, head hitting the pillow and legs dangling over the couch in yet another awkward position, but he didn't really care at that moment.

Once he found the remote wedged between the couch cushions, he switched on the television, wanting to distract himself with some form of entertainment before the inevitable came.

Surprisingly, it didn't take him as long as he thought. When he was in the middle of a rerun episode of Dancing With The Stars, a show he had despised over the course of its run, he distinctly heard shuffling coming from the bedroom. He stiffened for a second before grabbing the remote and turning off the television, not even taking his eyes off of the door of the bedroom for one second, afraid to miss Tony coming out of the room.

It was a few more moments before the doorknob slowly turned and the door pulled open, revealing Tony in the flesh and blood. Kurt couldn't resist from gasping aloud because this did _not _look like his fiancé he had known ever since their first blind date with a slim to no chance of ever meeting again.

Tony was slouching, back bent and shoulders hunched, almost like he was protecting himself. Despite the nap, he didn't look rejuvenated, but even more restless and completely drained, his face just as pale as Kurt's. What stuck out the most was Tony's eyes: usually stricken with life, they were tired, bleary with heavy bags underneath, something that Kurt rarely ever saw.

Their eyes met briefly before Tony moved forward, his bare feet shuffling against the wooden floor in a drag.

Although Tony kept his eyes locked to the floor, Kurt never took away his own from observing his fiancé. Even when Tony sat himself right next to Kurt on the couch, he was still keeping himself away from Kurt.

"So, do you want to tell me what the hell happened back there?" Kurt kept his tone soft, but firm and demanding.

Tony shook his head and shrugged. "I…" there was silence once more.

"Can you at least tell me where you've been?" Kurt prodded, going at another angle instead of getting straight to the point.

"I've been out," Tony muttered. "After leaving the office, I bumped into an old friend of mine from college."

Kurt was starting to become impatient. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Tony looked like he was about to snap back at Kurt, but instead held his tongue. "My friend wanted to catch up, so I went with him to the bar you… _found _me at. And this guy, he was very, _very _chatty, and it was hard to leave."

"So you stayed at your friend's house or something?" Kurt asked, frowning.

Tony fiddled with his thumbs, head lowered to avoid eye contact. "Um, no…"

Clearly, Tony was hiding something. "Here then, why did I find you drunk off of your ass?"

"I was _not_ drunk!" Tony burst out, head snapping back to Kurt's with denying eyes.

Outraged, Kurt stood to take the better advantage with intimidation. "Then why were you acting so out-of-character when I found you?"

Tony then stood to reach eye level, angry face to angry face. "Because I was _high _as a motherfucking kite."

The sudden outburst caught Kurt by surprise. He couldn't even comprehend Tony's words. High? As in _crack _high? As in _drugs_ high?

"What did-"

"I _said_, I was high, you whiney bitch!"

And that was when Kurt felt the slap right across his face.

The hit was _hard_, and it was like being slapped by an iceberg. The impact of the slap sent Kurt down on the couch, more out of shock than in pain. There was the deep throbbing sensation spreading on his cheek, and the only thing he could do was cup it with his suddenly ice cold hand.

Above him, Tony was breathing heavily, face contorted in white-hot anger, face nearly purple and teeth bared almost like a wild animal. That was the _exact _moment that Kurt knew he couldn't stay any longer in any circumstances.

He flailed off of the couch and stumbled past Tony, who was in a trance, to his bedroom, where the door slammed hard behind him and his hands shook as he locked it.

The adrenaline that was pumping through his entire body slowed down by a fraction for Kurt to get his head together. The slap that Tony delivered was still pulsing on his cheek and it wouldn't go away no matter how carefully he cradled it with his hand like it was a newborn baby needing comfort and nourishment.

It was like he was mindlessly roaming around the room as he heaved a suitcase hidden in the depths of the closet and began stuffing randomized clothing selections, along with bathroom necessities that was thrown in carelessly.

His fingers were trembling as he traced the zipper all around the perimeter of his suitcase, sealing the lid close. Then after a quick check that his phone and wallet were in his pockets, he hoisted the suitcase to the floor and wheeled it to the door.

As his hand reached for the doorknob, he took one last glance from the back of his shoulder at the room. He didn't know when he was going to return, but he knew that it wouldn't be until Tony's anger subsided, and who knew when that would be?

After counting backwards from three, his wrist twisted the knob and he charged forward, eyes set right at the door leading out of the apartment.

By the time he reached the hall, safely with no harm, he didn't even notice his fiancé in the kitchen glaring at him as he made his getaway. He never looked back as he left; phone already speed-dialing the one person he knew he could trust must.

"Dad? It's me, Kurt. Do you think I can stay with you and Carole for a few days?"

xXxXx

"What's that?" Mason asked through chewing his apple.

The weekend had flown by, and Kelly had dreaded the day that she returned back to school. After the eventful Saturday with the surprise visit from Mr. Hummel, Sunday was simply a day of rest and being lazy: she and her father had a marathon of movies with plenty of in between snacks, and later that evening they went to a park, where they threw a Frisbee around (which Kelly soon discovered a newfound skill in the game while her daddy failed miserably).

The Monday morning was already gone and now it was lunchtime, and she was sitting with Mason. She has been spending a lot of time with the boy, and soon enough they were "close acquaintances, soon-t-be mutual friends". She simply translated the language as another way of saying "friends."

But she couldn't resist at staring at her new friend with utter shock. "What? How can you say that?" She held the action figure inches from Mason's face. "It's Captain America: superhero and leader of the Avengers! How can you not know who Captain America is?"  
Mason shrugged. "I'm quite unfamiliar with the conceptions of 'superheroes' such as Superman. And I hardly know who _he _is."

"Do you know Batman?" Kelly asked.

"Sounds familiar."

"What about the Hulk?"

Mason frowned. "That sounds creepy."

"Okay then, you _have_ to know Thor."

Mason's face lit up. "Oh! Thor, yes, he's a demigod, son of Odin according to Greek mythology."

Now Kelly was confused. Who was Odin? She didn't remember at all if Uncle Sam told her about him. "I don't know him too well," Kelly muttered sheepishly. "So I don't really know."

"Okay, but-"

"Hey, lookit!"

Kelly spun around in her chair to see three, huge bulking and intimidating older kids standing over her and Mason, and at the sight she cowered away from their menacing smirks. They were tall, scary, and they looked like giants that any superhero would come across.

"This girly got herself a toy," one of them said, his malicious grin growing.

"Yeah," agreed another, "can we see the toy? We want to play with it."

"No!" Kelly shouted instantly, clutching her figure close to her chest. "You can't play with him, he's mine and mine only!"

The older boys only laughed at Kelly's defiant stand against them. No matter how mean these older kids were, she had to remain strong against these bullies.

"Why don't you leave us alone?" Mason spoke up. Kelly stared at him in awe as Mason had defied the bullies just like how she refused them to play (or steal) her action figure. "We've done nothing to you, you prehistoric baboons!"

They all frowned in confusion, including Kelly herself, not really knowing what that was supposed to mean. She couldn't help but smile though, at Mason's proud smile from that remark, crossing his arms as if he was testing the bullies' smarts.

Finally, one of them spoke. "What did you say to me, twinky?" The tallest of the three inched closer, towering over them. Kelly watched in horror and trepidation, as Mason didn't break under the threatening glare of the older kid.

"I said, leave us alone," Mason repeated in a scarily serious tone.

That was when the boy snarled like a dog, and launched at them, or more specifically Mason, with lighting speed. Both Kelly and Mason jumped back, defending themselves for the worse, when suddenly, the bully didn't viciously attack and tear them apart limb by limb.

Simultaneously, they peeked from under their arms that shielded their faces, to see Mr. Hummel holding back all _three_ of the bullies.

Kelly gawked as her teacher have saved them from the tormentors, and watched as Mr. Hummel send them away, assumedly being escorted principal's office by another teacher whom Kelly didn't know.

"Are you guys okay?" Mr. Hummel asked them earnestly. "I'm sure those kids were quite mean to you."

"We're okay," Kelly replied. "Thank you for stopping those bad guys fro us. You're our hero!"

When Mason agreed just as enthusiastically, Mr. Hummel simply chuckled at the praise. "Of course, it's no problem. I'll make sure those kids won't bother you again, Are you sure you guys are all right?"

"Yes sir," Mason said. "No injuries to report or anything."

Mr. Hummel smiled and patted both students on the back. Kelly noticed he have seemed to visible relax, assured that they were safe from harm's way. "That's good to hear. Sorry to bother you. I hope you enjoy what's left of lunch time."

Kelly waved as her teacher left them. Then, she could feel Mason's eyes glued at her. Uncomfortably at the feeling of being stared, she turned again to see her friend quickly turn away too, cheeks flushing.

She shrugged, and went back to her lunch, the pregnant silence between her and Mason not interfering for the rest of the time left in lunch. Although, she did hold Captain America tighter than she usually would, hoping that he would keep her from danger.

Back in the classroom, Kelly was at her desk, reading the Harry Potter book that her daddy allowed for her to bring to school during solo reading time later in the afternoon. Besides keeping it in her shelf like she should, she couldn't help but take it out, since there were only a few more minutes before the next lesson started.

After checking the clock to reassure that she had time to read _one more page_, her eyes wondered away from the book to Mr. Hummel. All day, Mr. Hummel seemed to be uncomfortable and on edge. She knew how observant she was; Aunt Quinn always admired her how amazing she was at identifying people's emotions. This was a perfect example of when Uncle Sam had forgotten about Aunt Quinn's birthday and worried all day that she would be mad at him.

Kelly watched as Mr. Hummel constantly checked his phone every few moments. She noticed the fidgeting of his leg, bouncing up and down with the repetitive beat of his fingers tapping against the desk edge.

She didn't even realized she had abandoned her book on her desk and stood up, walking over to Mr. Hummel and wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"Thanks, sweetie," Mr. Hummel said, adjusting himself so they were hugging the proper way. And _wow_, Mr. Hummel's hugs were the greatest thing in existence.

Then she could feel Mr. Hummel's chest rumble in laughter, and she ducked down at realizing she said that _out loud_.

"Your hugs are just as amazing as well, Kelly," Mr. Hummel told her, squeezing her just a bit harder for a second. The bell rang, and they parted. Neither of them had to say "thank you" for the appreciation of a hug; it wasn't necessary.

With that, Kelly's teacher stood up and addressed the class, eyes brighter and standing just a bit taller, much to Kelly's appeal.

xXxXx

"Kiddo, I don't think you should be making this two hour drive."

Kurt shrugged, fork gliding across the silver plate.

Burt Hummel frowned, as his son seemed to ignore his every protest to get a temporary hotel room to stay at instead of making the strenuous trip all the way to Lima, Ohio.

That Saturday night, just two days ago, Burt had been relaxing with Carole, when he got an unexpected call from Kurt. His worries took over at the broken voice that emitted from the other line. After his son gave him a short explanation of the situation, he hung up the second he could and drove all the way to Columbus, keeping his raging flames down as best to his ability.

He picked up Kurt at the front of his apartment building, and by Kurt's desperate request, they remained silent the entire two hours back with only the radio playing quietly in the background.

The second they arrived back at the Hummel residence, Carole attended to Kurt's needs, taking up his suitcase to his already prepared bedroom, in which she had done so while Burt had left to find Kurt.

From there, they sat down around the kitchen table while Kurt had explained the entirety of events that occurred throughout the day, from the start of when Tony hadn't returned from work, to the point in which he left the apartment in a hurry.

Throughout, Carole had to restrain her husband from jumping back up from his chair and running back to Columbus to beat Tony up to a pulp (in Burt's exact words). Halfway through the retelling Kurt had to excuse himself to the bathroom for a moment, where he had stayed there for several minutes locked in there. By the time the family turned in it was past midnight.

Sunday was spent with Kurt lounging around the house the entire morning, sleeping in late, and wearing sweats. Carole tried to get him to do something more productive instead of moping, but it took Burt to get him to do something: work with him at his garage for the afternoon. Wearing his old coveralls (that never outgrew him) and a white undershirt he and Burt spent some father-son time at the garage. By the end of the day, Kurt's mood had improved and was ready to go back to Columbus the next day to attend school instead of taking a vacation day like he originally planned.

Kurt have came home after Monday just as Carole was serving dinner. Since Burt had also come home at a good time as well, they all had a family dinner at the table again.

"Honey, I have to agree with your father here," Carole tried, nodding at Burt to show her support for the idea. "The constant trip to and from here and Columbus is going to take a toll on you. It isn't easy either with the economy acting weird and gas prices are soaring again."

The only reaction from him was a curt nod as he played with his small serving of Spaghetti and Meatballs.

Burt and Carole could only share a look as they let Kurt sulk for the rest of the meal.

While Carole took care of cleaning up, it was the perfect moment for Burt to take his son out for a walk, a tradition they had when Kurt was still living with his parents.

The air was crisp and chilly as the two Hummel men walked the usual path of interweaving sidewalks from when they were younger. Burt could tell that Kurt clearly didn't want to be here especially with the reluctance when Burt offered.

"How's your class?"

Kurt stared. "Fine. Good kids, smarter than last year."

"Any kids that really take a liking?"

Kurt bit his lip. "Don't tell anyone this, but there is this wonderful girl who by far my favorite student."

Burt laughed and held up his hand. "I won't tell a soul, bud. But I bet this kid must be great, huh, especially when you _never_ take favorites."

"She's incredibly smart, kind to others, and has an amazing father too, don't get me started on him otherwise I would never hear the end of it from Carole."

Burt frowned at the mention of the student's father. It wasn't too often for a teacher to talk like that about a student's parental figure. Or was it just how teachers acted as these days? "What's so special about this parent?" he asked, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets.

"Oh, you wouldn't believe how _amazing_ he is," Kurt swooned. "He is caring, kind, generous, and has these adorable eyes that sparkle under the light. And his stutters are just the cutest thing in the world."

Suddenly he stopped dead cold on his feet. His cheeks were flushing, and it wasn't from the weather either. Burt almost had to laugh at the unintentional confession.

"Kurt, buddy, I'm sure this new guy sounds awesome or rad, or whatever you kids say these days," he ignored Kurt's dramatic eye roll and continued. "But before you go too far into liking this gentleman, I think you should figure out what you're going to do with your fiancé first."

Kurt nodded, solemnly and a little upset. Burt sighed at the evident disappointment, and clasped a hand on his son's shoulders. "You get what I'm saying though? If you ever meet up with this parent again you can't lead him on like this, especially since you're engaged."

"I know, I know," Kurt whined, lolling his head back to stare up at the dim sky enveloping the earth. "It's tiring though. I haven't seen him since he was my waiter at a diner I just went to. As much as I would like to go there again and again I'm still tied down with Tony," he chuckled darkly. "Of course, _if _I'm still tied down with Tony, that is."  
"You ready to talk to him soon?" Burt asked.

"I guess so," Kurt sighed. "Better to do it sooner rather than later and delay the inevitable."

Burt couldn't resist smiling softly at Kurt's decision. He always was such a brave yet stubborn person, and to take such a stand so soon after the events of Tony's complete meltdown could really take a toll on him and on others. So far, Kurt hadn't been so stressed about his problems with his fiancé since he had arrived at the Hummel-Hudson residence that Saturday night: both emotionally and physically exhausted and in pain.

Already, the sun has disappeared over the horizon; a faint hue painting the skies colors of fire and gold. After this ordeal, Burt Hummel knew that his son would overcome and triumph in the end. He had so much faith he could bet his life on his son's future happiness.

Burt Hummel never really liked Tony in the first place. Of course, he _had _to go with it; he was his son's future husband, there was nothing to be done. But now Burt had every reason why to storm up to Tony Grenville and beat him to a pulp for hurting his son.

He gently patted at Kurt's shoulder to get his attention away from the sky. "I say we head back and force your step-mom to feed us ice cream," Burt offered with a chuckle, "and no matter how many times she'll say no, we'll do it anyways for the hell of it!"

Kurt gave him a small grin, the corners of his lips growing and his eyes twinkling contently once more. "I like the sound of that."


End file.
